


you would let loose your longing

by knightspur



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming of Age, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Gay Awakening, Genderbending, Minor Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Rule 63, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/pseuds/knightspur
Summary: Minghao smiles and Mingyu can recognize the indulgence of it even before she nods her head.It’s the power of that smile alone that makes the place suddenly feel like home, even with its unpacked boxes and plain walls. Even with the scant space and the old claw-foot tub in the bathroom that Minghao was so sure they would use that she talked Mingyu into this specific apartment instead of the cheaper, tub-less option two floors down. It feels like more than a freshly inked lease and four plaster walls.The way Minghao smiles, swinging her feet gently back and forth, her face almost level with Mingyu’s, fills the whole place with promise.





	1. spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rozsaks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rozsaks/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lordeventeenists!!
> 
> 1\. this is an entry for the song ribs, which is one of my personal favorites and i think maybe the most iconic lorde song. i had a good time with this fic and i hope it shows in reading it!
> 
> 2.you can check out my full playlist for the fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/crowchet/playlist/0jRtN0jO7JhksIgidQ4dWb?si=v4I-dkdKRXOBLsIwU2tnDw)
> 
> 3\. i'd like to thank the jukebox mods for taking the time to put this together. i'd also like to thank shaye and izzy because without them this probably would not have gotten finished.
> 
> 4\. the title, as well as the epigraph for each chapter are translations of the poetry of sappho
> 
> 5\. a very special thank you to pago pago

and lovely laughing— oh it  
puts the heart in my chest on wings  
for when I look at you, even a moment, no  
speaking  
is left in me

Waking up with Minghao sleeping next to her isn’t really a new experience for Mingyu. They aren’t strangers to sleepovers, drunk or sober and Mingyu has never had a problem sharing a little bed space with Minghao.

But for the first time, she’s waking up in the apartment she’s renting with Minghao and that makes everything— the little streak of sunlight that carves across their shared bed, Minghao quietly dozing with an arm tucked under her head, the soft sounds of the rest of the building starting to wake up as well— feel special.

Mingyu tips her head back against the pillow, freeing an arm from under the blankets to brush long hair back from her face, and lets herself spend a moment relishing in the whole thing.

It’d be more glamorous, maybe, if her first apartment off campus wasn’t a tiny, plain studio with only enough space for a queen bed tucked into a corner behind a dressing screen picked up from a vintage shop. But it’s her space— hers and Minghao’s— and it’s a chance to make whatever she wants out of her life.

Mingyu rolls over, butting her chin against the back of Minghao’s shoulder, hands sneaking under the blanket to tickle her ribs over the thin tank-top she wore to bed.

“Wake up,” Mingyu says, laughing when Minghao groans and tries to slap her hands away.

“No,” Minghao says, her voice low and raspy still with sleep.

“Don’t you wanna start unpacking?” Mingyu says, her chin resting against Minghao’s back, just at the edge of her shirt. Minghao’s skin is warm against Mingyu’s, against her cheek and under her palm.

“Why would I wanna do that?” Minghao says, pressing her face into her own pillow. “What time is it?”

“I dunno,” Mingyu says, laughing softly. “Sun’s up, though.”

“Great,” Minghao says, groaning once again. She rolls onto her back, narrowly missing Mingyu’s nose with her elbow, stretching her arms over her head. Her back arches off the mattress, the blanket lifting when her whole body draws out long. She groans, falling limp against the bed again after a second, turning her face to the side to look up at Mingyu, eyes barely squinting open.

“Did you unpack the coffee, at least?” She asks, a slight frown on her face.

“Dunno,” Mingyu says, poking gently at Minghao’s side. “If I go look are you gonna fall back asleep?”

“God, I hope so,” Minghao says, pushing her blunt bangs off her forehead. They hover in the air for a moment before falling back against her forehead, slightly more mussed this time. Mingyu isn’t sure if that’s what she wanted or not, but Minghao doesn’t make any further move to fix them, letting the dark strands of her hair tangle with her eyelashes.

“What about tea?” Mingyu asks, sitting up finally, stretching her arms over her head. It makes her shirt ride up slightly, exposing a stretch of skin from the bottom of her ribs to her hip. She doesn’t even notice it until Minghao reaches out and pinches her side, cold fingers making her jolt.

“Coffee,” she says, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder, peeking up at Mingyu with a frown. “Now.”

Mingyu laughs, tugging her shirt back down and swinging her legs to the floor. The old wood is cool under her feet, the chill air of the spring morning creeping in through one of the open windows. It makes Mingyu shuffle her way to the tiny kitchen quickly, though there’s barely any distance to cover.

She’s glad to find that one of them did unpack the coffee maker, pushing it next to one of the outlets and humming something tuneless while she fills it up with grounds. On the other side of the screen that marks out the bedroom she can hear Minghao stirring, probably dragging herself out of bed.

Minghao doesn’t usually take long to wake up, anyway. Mingyu can hear the rustling of blankets being tossed back into order before the coffee maker starts burbling its way through brewing. Minghao comes out from behind the screen, her jaw stretching open wide in a yawn. Her feet are light and quick over the cold floor and rather than standing next to Mingyu, she pushes herself up onto the counter, sitting just to the side of the coffee maker.

“That’s not furniture,” Mingyu says, poking at her knee. Minghao gives her a look like a particularly annoyed cat.

“I’m still sitting on it,” she says, shrugging her shoulders with a little grin. “Are you worried it’s gonna break?”

“I’m worried that your ass is where we cook food,” Mingyu says, rolling her eyes. 

“Where are the mugs?” Minghao sits up a little, her eyes scanning over the small pile of boxes they have set to the side of the fridge, waiting to be unpacked.

“Don’t know,” Mingyu says, this time with the thin slice of a smile on her face. “Can’t we just drink it out of the pot?”

“I thought we were going to be civilized,” Minghao says, wrinkling her nose delicately. She runs her fingers through her hair, gathering the length of it between her hands and tying it into a little tail that sits at the crown of her head, pointing straight back, showing off where the sides of her head are shaved under the longer layer of her hair. Mingyu likes to pet the shaved parts with her nails whenever she’s playing with Minghao’s hair for the fuzzy texture of it.

“We can be,” Mingyu says. “Tomorrow. “ She reaches out and ruffles the top of Minghao’s neatly tied up hair just to mess with it. “After we’re unpacked.”

“I’m not drinking a bottle of wine out of paper cups,” Minghao says, sniffing a little at the thought. “That’s where I draw the line.”

“You didn’t have a problem with it before,” Mingyu says, leaning her weight against the counter. “We have real glasses somewhere.”

“Yeah but now we’re adults,” Minghao says, reaching over to turn the coffee machine off as it finishes.

Mingyu laughs, shaking her head a little. “Okay. We’ll use the real glasses.”

Minghao smiles and Mingyu can recognize the indulgence of it even before she nods her head. 

It’s the power of that smile alone that makes the place suddenly feel like home, even with its unpacked boxes and plain walls. Even with the scant space and the old claw-foot tub in the bathroom that Minghao was so sure they would use that she talked Mingyu into this specific apartment instead of the cheaper, tub-less option two floors down. It feels like more than a freshly inked lease and four plaster walls.

The way Minghao smiles, swinging her feet gently back and forth, her face almost level with Mingyu’s, fills the whole place with promise.

**{* * *}**

Minghao thinks it’d be a lot easier to understand this passage she’s been trying to read if Seokmin wasn’t leaning her whole upper body against the table, watching Minghao read with a little pout on her face. She’s trying her best to ignore it, really, but every second that Seokmin spends with her lip quivering sweetly weakens Minghao’s resolve until she gives up staring at the book in front of her entirely.

“What?” She asks since she’s pretty sure Seokmin hasn’t even asked about whatever is on her mind yet.

“You haven’t let me see your apartment yet,” Seokmin says, stretching her arms out over the table, grabbing Minghao’s wrists and tugging on them. “I said this was gonna happen! You and Mingyu live together and you don’t need me anymore.”

“We haven’t unpacked yet,” Minghao says, rolling her eyes and letting Seokmin squeeze her arms with just a little huff in response. “We’re still getting it set up.”

“I can come help,” Seokmin offers, a little sparkle in her eyes. In reality, she’ll come over and the three of them will get distracted somehow and Minghao will still have a kitchen full of packed up cookware like she has for the last week.

“Fine,” she says because her better judgment is no use when it comes to Seokmin. “You can help us unpack stuff.”

Seokmin beams, her eyes curving into half-moons.

“How is it? Are you buying a second bed yet?” She asks, releasing Minghao’s hands to curl her arms up under her chest. Minghao shrugs, shaking her head.

“It’s fine. There’s plenty of space for us both to sleep,” Minghao says, flipping to the next page in her book even though she hasn’t really finished what she was looking at already. “If we get another bed we’ll have to get all the bedding and stuff too. It’s annoying.”

“So it’s not weird sleeping with Mingyu?” Seokmin asks, her head leaning curiously to the side.

“Don’t make it sound weird,” Minghao says, griping just a little. “We share a bed.”

“Where you _just sleep_ ,” Seokmin says, the added emphasis only making her grin a little bit more. “It is kinda weird.”

“Mingyu isn’t into girls,” Minghao says, her eyes drifting back to the text in front of her if only in an effort to avoid the way Seokmin is still staring at her. She doesn’t have to work so hard to make her point clear— Minghao already knows exactly what she’s getting at.

It’s not that hard to put the pieces together. Mingyu might not be interested in girls, but Minghao _is_. Before moving in, Minghao hadn’t really thought hard about that. There’s no reason for it to be a problem… she and Mingyu have been best friends for years, after all. It’s not as if it’s some big secret between them.

That was before the idea of them sharing a single bed came up. And before it turned out that waking up to find Mingyu still sleepy, hiding her face in the pillows, sleep-ruffled hair covering her face, made something feel tight and fragile in the center of Minghao’s chest.

It’ll go away though, she’s pretty sure. She just has to get used to things.

She’s not planning on telling Seokmin about any of that since Seokmin wouldn’t even stop at teasing her mercilessly for it. Minghao would rather see a joke made out of her budding crush on Mingyu than Seokmin’s incredibly sincere sympathy.

“It’s really no big deal,” Minghao says, rolling her eyes for added emphasis. “She’s not a clinging octopus like you are.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t share with me?” Seokmin says, her eyebrows inching together in distress.

Minghao, idiot that she is, caves immediately. “I’ve done it before, haven’t I?”

Seokmin grins, pleased by even the obvious answer. “So no crush on Mingyu yet?”

“No crush on Mingyu _ever_ ,” Minghao says, shaking her head sharply. “I’m not stupid.”

Seokmin’s eyebrows lift slightly and Minghao expects her to say something else— to keep pushing the subject. But they settle again after a second and she merely shakes her head with a little laugh.

“Okay,” she says, the smile on her face small and sincere. “I hope that works out for you.”

So much for avoiding Seokmin’s well-intentioned sympathy. Minghao sinks down in her seat with a sigh, trying to go back to her reading.

**{* * *}**

“Why are you up so early?” Mingyu whines, barely peeking her face out from under the blankets. “You don’t have class for like, two hours.”

She shoots a miserable look at the old alarm clock that sits on the floor next to their shared bed, pulling the blankets in tighter around her.

Minghao, arms stretching over her head, hair tied back, lifting her back in a long, languid arch, doesn’t seem to notice Mingyu’s pestering.

“I’m stretching,” she answers after a moment, using her bare feet to unroll the yoga mat that somehow ended up tucked next to one corner of the bed. “You should get up and do it too. It’s good for you.”

“I’ll go to the gym later,” Mingyu says, puffing her cheeks in a pout.

Usually, Mingyu doesn’t have any issues dragging herself out of bed and making coffee or tumbling into the shower but she’s tired and watching Minghao bend herself into weird shapes while the room is still full of fuzzy morning light is just making her feel even sleepier.

“Jock,” Minghao says, a grin cutting across her face. “You can barely touch your toes.”

“My toes are further away than most people’s,” Mingyu says, shaking her head. She tucks her hair behind her ears the best she can, wiggling into a slightly more comfortable spot on the mattress. 

Minghao rolls her eyes, tugging the bottom of the thin tank top she wore to bed to adjust it, shaking her head. Mingyu isn’t sure if she was wearing the same pants to sleep but judging by the way they hug her legs and her waist, her thought is probably not.

Mingyu has seen little bits of Minghao’s morning stretching routine before, usually, while she’s puttering around the apartment cooking breakfast or getting ready herself, but she’s never actually hung around and just watched.

She could easily sink back beneath the blanket and try to sleep, but she doesn’t. Minghao starts easy, bending herself to one side then the other, stretching her back and her sides and rolling her shoulders.

The stuff after that is all the things Mingyu is pretty sure she couldn’t do; both hands on the floor and one leg lifted out behind her, curled on her knees with her forehead touching the floor and her arms stretched out, spreading her legs out almost in a split and touching the tips of her fingers to the bends of her feet.

She _definitely_ couldn’t bend both legs over her head the way Minghao does— laying on her back, lifting her hips away from the thin mat and holding them in the air until her legs start to tremble a little with the effort.

Mingyu doesn’t know exactly why she feels so compelled to watch Minghao going through her stretching routine. She doesn’t shut her eyes or bother to get out of bed or even mess around on her phone. She feels weirdly… entranced by the whole thing. Minghao grunts, lifting her hips up higher, pushing down with her hands until she manages to touch her toes to the floor behind her head.

Mingyu feels like there are a half-dozen cotton balls stuck in her mouth. Minghao rolls her head to the side, looking up at Mingyu with a laugh that gets stuck in the compressed space of her chest.

“What?” She says, surprisingly clear for someone folded in half.

“I’m trying to figure out if you even have bones,” Mingyu says, her laughter a little strained. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Minghao shakes her head, her face hardening in focus for a second. She lifts both her legs straight up, ankles pressed together, breathing out a long, slow groan as she does.

There’s a distinct feeling of… something in the pit of Mingyu’s stomach that she doesn’t really want to examine too closely. Envy, maybe. She’s never been flexible like Minghao is. It makes her feel funny though. Strange and restless. She rolls off the bed, grabbing a hair tie off the top of the dresser and tying her hair in a ponytail, walking to the kitchen in what she hopes doesn’t look like a desperate bid to escape.

It’s fine to feel kind of jealous of Minghao’s flexibility. Mingyu does her best to concentrate on filling up a pot with water for tea. It doesn’t mean anything weird.

Neither does the way the sound of Minghao groaning replays in her head until she’s forced to start playing music from her phone just to banish it.

It feels like she’s thought about this kind of thing a lot since moving in with Minghao. Maybe because she didn’t realize how many habits Minghao had that would stand out to her in close proximity. They aren’t really annoying, though. Just things that stick in her head for much longer than she should; how Minghao’s lipstick leaves little smears on the rim of a wine glass or the fact that she wears a bra only a third as often as Mingyu does because her chest is much smaller.

Or the way her neck is soft and pink whenever she gets out of the shower.

The shampoo she uses means her pillow always smells nice…

Mingyu narrowly avoids pouring boiling water directly on her hand. She pulls it back with a yelp, knocking the mug onto the floor where it promptly cracks into pieces, leaving a little puddle of steaming water on the counter where it was once sitting.

“What’d you drop?” Minghao says, her voice carrying through the quiet apartment. Mingyu groans, setting the kettle down carefully to the side of the puddle and picking her way around the shards of ceramic to try and find their broom.

“I didn’t drop it,” she says, glancing over her shoulder when Minghao leans out around the screen hiding the bed from view. “It fell.”

“What fell?” Minghao asks, rolling her eyes.

“Mug,” Mingyu says, swinging the broom vaguely in Minghao’s direction when she starts to walk over. “Stay over there so you don’t cut your foot.”

“I can see where you broke it,” Minghao says, leaning her shoulder against the dressing screen with a little laugh. Even across the room, she’s close enough for Mingyu to make out the light sheen of sweat on her skin. Minghao seems to be suddenly more aware of it as well because she lifts her shirt, dragging the thin fabric over her cheeks and her forehead.

It leaves her stomach exposed the whole time, along with the slight peek of the dark sports bra she has underneath.

Mingyu is just pulling her eyes away when Minghao drops the shirt, unsure why she was staring to begin with.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” Minghao says, still sounding amused while Mingyu sweeps the shards up as carefully as she can, trying to make sure none of them get left behind.

“No,” she says, puffing her cheeks up a little. “I can handle this.”

“Don’t hurt yourself while I’m in the shower,” Minghao says, grinning wider when Mingyu tries to glare at her. “At least wait until I’m out so I can help.”

“You’re a bully,” Mingyu says, whining just a little. “You want me to get hurt.”

“I want to have a full set of mugs,” Minghao says, tossing one of their fresh bought, overly fluffy towels over her shoulder and drifting by with a shake of her head. “You’ve ruined my lifelong dream. I hope you’re happy.”

When the bathroom door shuts behind her, Mingyu is still laughing, leaning her weight on the long handle of the broom.

**{* * *}**

It was Soonyoung’s idea that they should all get together and have a few drinks to celebrate the end of the school year as well as Mingyu and Minghao’s move. Mingyu is already finished— dressed nicely enough, hair tied out of her face, sitting on the couch.

Minghao is on the other side of the room, staring at their only full-length mirror, propped haphazardly against the wall. She’s holding a short, silky black dress up to herself, frowning slightly.

“Someone is gonna say it’s too fancy,” Minghao says, her scowl getting a little deeper.

She’s been having this debate with herself for the last ten minutes.

“But you wanna wear it,” Mingyu offers, twisting the ends of her bangs between her fingers. She’s already settled in her outfit— a button-up left half open tucked into a ripped pair of jeans. Minghao nods, then frown once again, her eyebrows furrowed together.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” Minghao says, looking over at Mingyu. It feels like she’s really asking for the first time rather than just going back and forth on her own. The corner of her lip is caught between her teeth, fingers stroking over the seam of the dress.

“You’ll look really good in it,” Mingyu says, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “And it’s kinda hot.”

“At least I won’t have to put on a bra,” Minghao says, hanging the dress off the corner of their dressing screen before turning around and shimmying the loose tank top she has on off. Mingyu, for just a second, stares at the bare skin of her back before she realizes what she’s doing and looks at something else.

Her eyes still want to take the chance to wander over the dip of Minghao’s spine, for some reason that she can’t really name.

She doesn’t glance up until she can hear the pat of Minghao’s bare feet as she goes into the bathroom, probably to finish her makeup now that she’s actually dressed. Her lazy clothes tossed into their mixed laundry. Mingyu trails after her because she’s unsure what else to do.

Minghao is leaning in toward the mirror, one leg lifted in an imitation of a flamingo, spreading merlot-red lipstick over her mouth. The thin straps of the dress and the severe angle at which it dips in the back show off more of her shoulders than Mingyu was expecting and she still feels slightly off for how much she notices it.

It’s easy to chalk up to envy though— even in the overly yellow light of the bathroom, Minghao’s skin looks pale and soft. Mingyu wasn’t wrong in telling her that she’d look good in the dress. Minghao’s eyes drag over to the side, taking in Mingyu leaning against the door for a moment before putting the cap back on the lipstick and grinning at her.

“You’re wearing butch clothes again. You’re not gonna have boys hanging off you all night this time,” Minghao says, though her tone makes it sound like a compliment. She reaches out, giving Mingyu’s shirt a little tug. “You look cuter like this.”

Mingyu laughs, ducking her head forward, shy. “Those two things don’t exactly match.”

“Sure they do,” Minghao says, pursing her red lips together for a moment. “I’d rather be buying your drinks all night.”

She’s smiling but there’s something Mingyu can’t quite grasp underneath it. Some subtle nudge of her voice that pulls but doesn’t seem to lead anywhere. At least not anywhere that Mingyu can see.

It nags at her, even when Minghao finishes in the bathroom and the two of them leave, Mingyu pausing to twist the stubborn deadbolt into place, aware that she’s probably going to have to do the same when they get home or risk Minghao drunkenly trying to kick the door in. Again.

In spite of the recent rain, it’s still just as sticky-hot outside the apartment as inside, steam rising off the damp pavement and the metallic, ozone smell of an impending storm hanging in the air. It’s dark, but only just, and Minghao reaches behind her like she’s going to lace her fingers together with Mingyu’s.

“Did Seokmin say where she wanted us to meet?” Minghao asks, looking over her shoulder when Mingyu doesn’t take her hand. If she’s bothered by it, it doesn’t show on her face. Her arm drops back by her side, the heels of her shoes lifting her up to Mingyu’s eye-level and clacking sharply against the pavement.

Mingyu wonders if she’s going to have to carry Minghao home but is immediately less bothered by the notion than she thought she would be. Minghao is light, after all. It’s not that hard to carry her.

She pulls her phone out, rattling off the address that Seokmin sent her earlier in the day. She gives in when Minghao holds her arm out this time, looping their elbows together rather than taking her hand. Minghao laughs, stroking her fingertips over Mingyu’s bicep.

“This makes it look like you’re escorting me, doesn’t it?” She says, giving her head a little shake. 

“I think you’re the only one who thinks that,” Mingyu says, though she doesn’t pull her arm away or even disagree. “I’ll probably escort you home again, too.”

“Taking me to bed is part of your job,” Minghao says, her grin sliding a little crooked.

By the time they walk the few blocks over to the right bar, the back of Mingyu’s shirt is sticky with sweat and she’s now definitely jealous of the short hem of Minghao’s dress, meaning she’s exposed everywhere below the middle of her thighs.

It must be much cooler, at least. As much as she complains about the heat, Minghao seems relatively untroubled by it now. The first blast of air conditioning that washes over Mingyu nearly makes her groan.

Seokmin is there already to Mingyu’s surprise. Less surprising is that she’s there with Soonyoung leaning into her side, arms draped around her, laughing at something Seokmin has said.

Mingyu smiles, though she can’t help but feel a little lonely too. Sometimes it seems like she and Minghao are the only people who don’t already have someone. She does her best to shake it out of her mind, following Minghao up to the bar, hesitating a moment before untangling her arm from Minghao’s to sit down.

Soonyoung doesn’t detach from Seokmin, leaning heavier on her shoulder and wiggling her fingers in a wave. “Aren’t you late?”

“It just seems that way because you’re usually not on time,” Minghao says, rolling her eyes. “We seem late because you were early.”

Soonyoung frowns slightly, her eyes still sparkling with laughter. “Is that how it works?”

“We are usually late,” Seokmin adds, her fingers curled around Soonyoung’s ribs. Soonyoung laughs, leaning her cheek against Seokmin’s shoulder with a little sigh.

“I guess,” she says, distracted by Seokmin’s fingers tickling up and down her ribcage. “At least you’re here now.”

**{* * *}**

“I wish it wasn’t so fucking hot,” Minghao says, her mouth set in a pout, cheek on top of her arms. She’s stretched across the length of their table, fingers curled around the other side, eyes half open.

“Language,” Seokmin says, in a fake-offended gasp.

Mingyu pats her back in a small gesture of sympathy. Minghao lifts one hand to flip Seokmin off before she shuts her eyes and the dark cavern of the bar to stop spinning, shaking her head.

“We won’t get to do this next year,” she says after a moment, her thoughts coming out in a mumble.

Mingyu’s hand is too hot, resting on the back of her neck, but Minghao doesn’t really want to brush her away so she just lets it stay like that, sweat starting to collect on her skin.

“We can still do fun stuff,” Mingyu says, rolling her thumb in little circles at the base of Minghao’s skull. It’s soothing, even if Minghao isn’t in the mood to be soothed. She arches into the touch, stretching her back out long and lean, chest pressing into the hard edge of the table.

“Not if I have to go back home,” Minghao says, her voice just a shade clearer. “Or if you two get jobs somewhere else. Or if I flunk out and become a street busker and then get disowned…”

Mingyu giggles, leaning her weight against Minghao’s side. That makes Minghao crack an eye open, eyebrows low, glaring up at Mingyu.

“I’m serious,” she says, sitting up reluctantly. “Everything is going to be different.”

“It might not be,” Seokmin says, keeping the peace as always. “Soonie graduated and she’s still here.”

“That’s different,” Minghao says, though she can’t really explain why.

She didn’t have to worry about Soonyoung’s future the way she has to worry about her own. Mingyu’s hand falls away when she sits up and Minghao isn’t sure if she misses the touch or not.

“I wanna go somewhere else,” she says, pushing herself out of the seat without any serious stumbling. It’s too hot and the blood under her skin is burning too bright and she would rather go running through the rainy street than sit around and mope over her own feelings.

Seokmin glances back at the bathroom that Soonyoung vanished into, shooting Minghao a little smile. “I can’t leave Soonyoung behind.”

Minghao huffs, even though that makes sense, and tosses her head. She holds her hand out for Mingyu instead.

“C’mon,” she says, half expecting Mingyu not to take it.

Mingyu hesitates, then smiles, reaching out and letting Minghao pull her out of her seat. “We’ll come back in a few minutes.”

Seokmin nods and Minghao decides not to contradict her promise.

It’s late— later than Minghao thought and when the two of them step outside, the damp streets are mostly empty of people. Mingyu has a hand on her elbow while she walks, probably afraid that Minghao will fall.

For half a block, the two of them are quiet except for the clicking of Minghao’s now wildly uncomfortable heels. She could take them off— she could probably get Mingyu to carry her, even, but that seems like giving up early.

“It’s normal to be kinda freaked out,” Mingyu says as they turn a corner, darting a little look at Minghao. “We’re graduating this year… It’s a big deal.”

Minghao scowls and does her best to swallow down the desire to snap something in return. Mingyu isn’t trying to be a pain, she knows. But thinking too hard about the future makes Minghao short-tempered. She likes having control of things; being able to make a plan and plot a course and follow it. She can’t do that from where she’s standing now.

“It’s too much,” Minghao says, shaking her head with a long sigh. There’s a funny pressure behind her eyes, almost like she’s going to start crying, as silly as that is. “I’m not ready for everything to change.”

Mingyu’s face goes soft with sympathy, her mouth rounding out and the tension dropping away from her features. She reaches out, her fingers closing around the top of Minghao’s arm, keeping her from walking any further.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Mingyu says, pulling Minghao into a hug. It’s too hot to be so close but Minghao doesn’t pull away. She presses her forehead into the side of Mingyu’s neck and shuts her eyes.

“You don’t know that,” Minghao says, her voice a little muffled.

“You don’t know if things will change,” Mingyu says in return. Her fingers are spread wide over the small of Minghao’s back and she can feel every point of contact and the way it generates even more heat. “I like the bright side.”

Minghao squeezes her eyes shut tighter and tries to envision the bright side— where the two of them wake up the same time next year, still in their little apartment, and casually dance around each other to get ready for work.

The sheer amount of want that image wakes in her almost cracks Minghao’s perfect track record of not crying in front of her friends. She burrows her face against Mingyu’s neck, hanging off her shirt, probably pulling the buttons open accidentally.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Mingyu says again, rocking Minghao slightly in her arms.

Minghao isn’t sure how long it is before she swallows down the lump and her throat and finds a way to stop her mouth from trembling but Mingyu doesn’t complain, even though her shoulders are speckled with rain and her forehead is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Mingyu lets go when she takes half a step back, dropping her arms to the sides and looking at Minghao with a little smile.

She reaches out, brushing Minghao’s long bangs out of her eyes. “Feel better?”

Minghao knows, distantly, that this isn’t the first time she’s thought about kissing Mingyu. The thought always sneaks up on her when she’s least prepared for it.

Like now, in the summer heat and the sprinkling rain, like every romance movie cliche, she doesn’t want to admit to knowing to begin with.

She takes an extra step back, making sure to smile and nod her head. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna go back?” Mingyu says, a little furrow of concern still on her face. “We can walk around some more.”

“It’s okay,” Minghao says, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna walk any further in these shoes.”

Mingyu looks down at her feet, smiles then turns around. She leans over and Minghao doesn’t think hard enough to protest before climbing on her back. Mingyu’s hands grasp around her bare legs and she does her best not to think about that either.

“Thanks,” she says, smothering the word against the nape of Mingyu’s neck.

“Any time,” Mingyu says, hoisting Minghao up on her back.

**{* * *}**

It’s funny how doing even mundane things is more fun when Mingyu. Even the two of them drifting through an air-conditioned grocery store, Mingyu leaning her weight against the steel cart, hunched over like she can somehow keep her height a secret from the rest of the world.

Maybe it’s because whatever honeymoon phase they’re in hasn’t worn off yet, but Minghao, against all odds, is enjoying herself. It’s cute— the way Mingyu gets distracted by different ingredients like cheese in fancy packaging or fruits she’s never tried before. At first, Minghao thought that maybe it would be tiring or that she’d feel like she was trying to shop with a child in tow.

But really, it’s just fun. Mingyu is entertaining and cheerful and later when Minghao grouses about how much they spent on food, Mingyu will coax her into not feeling so bad about it.

“There’s supposed to be a farmer’s market near here too,” Mingyu says, still leaning on the cart, narrowly missing a steel shelf while she stares at her phone. Minghao rolls her eyes, reaching out grasp the side of the cart and pull Mingyu over to safety. “We can go check it out too.”

It’s a quiet, cloudy spring day but the threat of rain feels distant. Part of Minghao wants to make a joke— something about Mingyu taking her out for the perfect lesbian afternoon— but Mingyu definitely doesn’t see it that way and Minghao doesn’t want to make her feel weird.

Instead, she hums, releasing the cart when Mingyu looks up and catches her near miss with a shy laugh before nodding her head. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Mingyu beams, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She tugs at the sleeve of Minghao’s shirt, laughing.

“Are you gonna complain if I buy anything there?” She asks, her eyes sparkling a little.

“I won’t _complain,”_ Minghao says, trying to stress the word. “I’m just being careful.”

Mingyu puffs her cheeks out, sulking, making Minghao smile while she follows Mingyu through one of the checkout lanes.

“What about coffee?” Mingyu says, looking over her shoulder at Minghao. “Is that allowed?”

“We can get some,” Minghao says, bumping her shoulder against Mingyu’s back with a little laugh. “Are you gonna want ice cream, too?”

Mingyu thinks it over, humming while she loads their food back in the cart.

They don’t end up getting any ice cream but Minghao does have an iced coffee in her hand while they wander around the farmer’s market. She’s mostly content to watch Mingyu bounce from booth to booth, cooing over produce.

It’s cute— it’ll be worth whatever Mingyu ends up spending just to see her enjoy herself so much. She flails a hand back in Minghao’s direction, waving her along excitedly.

“This place is so cool,” Mingyu says, reaching out and grabbing Minghao’s wrist when she doesn’t catch up quite quickly enough. She tugs at Minghao’s arm like a puppy on a leash and Minghao turns her hand to grasp Mingyu in return.

“Calm down,” Minghao says, laughing as she holds onto Mingyu’s arm. She can’t help but smile when Mingyu skids to a stop, bumping into her back gently.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, even though she’s practically vibrating still.

“And Junhui says _I_ have a weird relationship with vegetables,” Minghao says, shaking her head. She leans her cheek against the back of Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu laughs, looking back at Minghao as best she can.

The sun has just started to creep out from behind the clouds, weak rays pouring over Mingyu’s skin and Minghao’s eyes dart off in any other direction to avoid dwelling on the sight.

In looking the other direction, her eyes land on a booth selling fresh cut flowers. She pulls her arms gently back from Mingyu, nodding at the flowers with a little smile.

“Those look nice,” she says. It’s as fitting a distraction as any and Mingyu is quick to turn around to examine the flowers. She’s seconds away from shoving her face into the fresh buds but one of the nice, middle-aged women behind the counter smiles sweetly at her instead.

“Are you getting flowers for your girlfriend?” She asks, looking over at Minghao for a second before Mingyu answers.

Minghao tries to pretend her face isn’t flaming at the mistake. Mingyu doesn’t seem to register it, or maybe she’s just not bothered by the implication that she and Minghao are something they’re not.

She looks back at Minghao instead, running her fingers over the delicate leaves of a bouquet of flowers that Minghao can’t name. “These would look nice at home.”

There’s something funny to the way Mingyu says it— something that catches Minghao’s ear. It hasn’t been that long since they settled in, certainly not long enough for Minghao to begin thinking of their apartment as _home._

Maybe isn’t all that it seems but something squeezes in Minghao’s chest. A promise.

“They’re pretty,” Minghao agrees, stepping forward to avoid being in the way of anyone else. She leans forward, holding onto Mingyu’s arm. Mingyu twists the flowers in her hands, tilting them toward Minghao’s face.

She holds them there for a moment while Minghao smells it, laughing when she starts to set them down again.

Behind the booth, the woman smiles at them. “Do you want them, sweetie?”

Mingyu laughs, nodding her head but rubbing the back of her neck. “I think I’m already over the budget for today.”

The woman smiles, glances back at the beat up truck sitting behind the booth and the other woman pulling another crate of flowers from the bed of it. Her smile melts into something softer and she waves a hand at Mingyu.

“You can take it if you want,” she says, leaning forward. “It’s good to celebrate young love.”

This time, Mingyu doesn’t miss the meaning. Her cheeks grow pink and she picks the flowers up again slowly, looking at Minghao with a nervous laugh.

“O-oh,” she says, her smile wobbling at the corners. “Thank you.”

Minghao takes the chance to usher Mingyu off, her face pink, mumbling her own thank you.

“Did she mean actual girlfriends?” Mingyu asks, still holding onto the flowers and looking down at Minghao.

“I think so,” Minghao says, doing her best to laugh it off. “That was um, nice of her.”

She’s not sure if she should be apologizing or not, but Mingyu just passes the flower to her with a laugh.

“It could be worse,” Mingyu says, draping her arm over Minghao’s shoulders. “I think you’d make a good girlfriend.”

Minghao’s face goes redder, if possible.

When she doesn’t answer right away, Mingyu jostles her shoulders back and forth. “Do you not think I would be good too?”

“You don’t like girls,” Minghao says, letting Mingyu shake her. “So I don’t think it counts.”

“I could still be a good girlfriend,” Mingyu says. She points at the flowers in Minghao’s hands, her lower lip out in a pout. “I got you those!”

“You did,” Minghao says, holding the flowers in front of her face to try and hide her smile. It doesn’t work, and Mingyu grins even wider. “I guess you’d do okay.”

**{* * *}**

Minghao has had just enough of the syrah that Mingyu convinced her to splurge on to feel loose-limbed and warm. Seokmin is sitting next to her, either considerably less drunk or considerably more— she hits a point where it becomes impossible to tell anymore— one hand on Minghao’s knee.

They’re leaning together like a pair of melting ice sculptures. Seokmin’s head is tucked against Minghao’s shoulder, Minghao’s cheek resting against the top of her head. She’s watching Soonyoung argue with Wonwoo about something, her gestures getting more and more passionate while Wonwoo watches in stone-faced amusement. Minghao has abandoned filling her plastic cup up with more wine in favor of letting the bottle hang from her fingers because she doesn’t know where Mingyu went and she’s not going to wait around forever to share the rest with her.

She lifts the bottle up to take a too-long sip from the thin neck of it and Seokmin looks over at her with a giggle, her face flushed pink.

“Are you finishing that yourself?” Seokmin asks and Minghao lifts her other shoulder in a shrug.

“Where’s Mingyu?” She asks in return, gesturing around and shaking her head. It’s not that weird for Mingyu to wander off during parties; Seokmin is attached and Minghao is gay, which means Mingyu is the only one interested in letting men chat her up.

The whole idea makes Minghao feel weirdly bitter and she takes another long drink of the syrah before Seokmin even answers her. Seokmin must not think it was a real question because she just giggles, pitching forward with her hands on her knees. She lifts her head after a moment, reaching both arms out when Soonyoung drifts by, catching her girlfriend by the waist and pressing her face into Soonyoung’s soft tummy.

“Are you drunk, baby?” Soonyoung asks a pink flush on her cheeks and ears, petting her fingers through Seokmin’s messy hair.

“I’m not a baby,” Seokmin says, her pouting slightly muffled. It makes Soonyoung laugh, leaning over to kiss the top of Seokmin’s head.

Minghao gets up, dragging the wine with her, leaving the couch before they have the chance to get even sappier… or start making out.

She sways slightly on her feet but rights herself, wandering off in the direction of the thudding music in the next room. She’s not sure who’s apartment they’re in— Soonyoung knows too many people and she insisted on bringing Mingyu and Minghao along with her.

It’s not even bad— Minghao likes parties, and she has plenty of wine. But she feels weirdly alone and she doesn’t really want to just sit in the corner and finish off the bottle by herself.

She leans up on her toes, careful not to fall over, trying to spot Mingyu around. It shouldn’t be that hard; she stands half a head over everyone else Minghao knows. She’s heard Mingyu called an “amazon” by so many guys that the first half of Wonder Woman made her want to throw a bottle through the screen.

When she does spot Mingyu, she’s of course not alone. There’s a guy leaning in, too close, his hand on one of her hips. Minghao’s brain slogged down by alcohol, gets stuck on the fact that she helped pick out Mingyu’s outfit and it’s not really _fair_ that some douche is the one who gets to enjoy it.

The guy leans in like he’s trying to whisper something in Mingyu’s ear but ends up with his mouth moving across her jaw instead. Minghao’s lips peel back in a sneer and she turns on her heel and goes back the way she came before there’s a chance of Mingyu noticing her watching like some kind of creep.

Minghao presses the bottle to her lips and thinks about the night before— watching a movie with Mingyu, sprawled out on the floor of their apartment in a small mountain of pillows. Mingyu fell asleep with her head in Minghao’s lap, glasses knocked askew, hair almost falling into her mouth.

She thinks about Mingyu— her tanned skin lit up blue by the light from the screen, fingers curled around Minghao’s thigh, mumbling softly when Minghao pet her hair— and takes a long, long drink.

**{* * *}**

Minghao winds up on the roof of whoever’s apartment building, sitting next to Wonwoo and rolling the empty syrah bottle back and forth with her foot.

Wonwoo is watching her leg kick back and forth but Minghao can’t remember what they were really talking about. Wonwoo was pointing out constellations for a bit but Minghao can’t really follow the long-winded stories about why the Greeks named them the way they did.

Another time, she’d be into it. She just has to figure out where they are so she can drag Wonwoo out here again.

“Where are we?” Minghao asks, almost falling over when she tips her head sideways. They’re sitting on the ground because Wonwoo said it was too dangerous for them to sit on the ledge like Minghao wanted to. Minghao thinks now that she might have been right about that.

Wonwoo laughs, adjusting her glasses and looking up at the upturned bowl of the sky. “We’re on Earth.”

Minghao punches her shoulder for being a pain. Wonwoo hisses, even though it wasn’t that hard, holding her arm and leaning away. “Don’t hit.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Minghao says, her words blurring slightly together. “I needa find Mingyu again.”

“Is she still here?” Wonwoo asks, looking around.

Minghao is pretty sure that Mingyu was never up on the roof with them, but the question sinks in deeper and makes her stomach roll. Mingyu might have left without her— Mingyu might have brought whoever that guy was home to fuck her in _their_ bed.

She leans to the side, pulling her hair back in one hand, the other balancing herself against the ledge, and coughs up the full contents of her stomach. It’s not clear if it’s the spinning of her head or the dizzying pace of her thoughts making her sick, but Wonwoo pats her on the back with her mouth set into a thin line.

“I’ll go find Mingyu,” she says, giving Minghao’s shoulder another little pat when she stands up. “Don’t fall off.”

Minghao grunts, wiping her mouth off and scooting away from the mess. It’s late spring but the night is still cool enough to make bumps rise up on her arms. Minghao pulls her knees up to her chest, laying her cheek against them.

She could’ve called Mingyu herself. She could get up and go find her or find out that she’s gone already and just walk back by herself…

It takes a few minutes for Wonwoo to come back, Mingyu ducking through the small roof access door after her, looking around and shaking her head with a little laugh.

“Is this where you’ve been? I was looking for like twenty minutes,” she says. She might mean both of them, but she’s looking straight at Minghao. She stops just in front of her, reaching both hands out with a smile. “Don’t feel good?”

“I’m fine,” Minghao says, her voice slightly sour. She lets Mingyu pull her up to her feet anyway, stumbling slightly. Her arms wind around Mingyu’s waist on instinct, using her much more stable form, face pressing into her shoulder.

She wasn’t planning on it being a hug, but Mingyu holds onto her in return anyway, petting the nape of Minghao’s neck where her hair is shaved down to stubble and meets with the rest of her skin.

“Wanna go home?” Mingyu asks, her voice warm and soft.

“You gotta carry me,” Minghao says, still nuzzling into Mingyu’s shirt. If she even remembers this tomorrow, she can pass the neediness off on being drunk. Mingyu laughs, and for a bleary second, it feels like she drops a kiss against the top of Minghao’s head.

“Fine,” she says, rubbing her thumbs into Minghao’s shoulders. “You should drink some water first.”

Water is something Wonwoo has in her hand and Minghao wastes half the bottle on rinsing her mouth out and spitting it onto the concrete surface of the roof while Mingyu rubs the small of her back. She drinks the rest, crunching the plastic bottle in her fist and shoving it into the back pocket of her pants.

“Better?” Mingyu asks, tucking her long hair behind her ear.

Minghao wants to kiss the mole next to her ear. She shrugs, giving Mingyu a little nudge.

“Home, c’mon,” she says, doing her best not to sway on her feet when Mingyu lets go of her.

Mingyu laughs, turning around and crouching down low enough for Minghao to climb on her back. Mingyu isn’t really that much taller than her, and it probably looks silly since her feet drag below Mingyu’s knees.

But Mingyu stands up, letting Minghao’s arms hook around her shoulders, hands under Minghao’s thighs to balance her weight better. “Comfy?”

“Very,” Minghao says, pressing the word into the nape of Mingyu’s neck. Minghao can feel the slight, suppressed way she shivers and wonders if maybe Mingyu is a little cold too. She tightens her grasp on Mingyu’s shoulders, pressing in closer in an attempt to share some body heat.

It’s not clear at what point on their slow walk home she starts fluttering little kisses against the back of Mingyu’s neck, warm breath tickling the nape of it. She has Mingyu’s hair scraped out of the way and draped over one of her shoulders, still holding onto her.

Mingyu hasn’t said anything about it and Minghao’s self-preservation instincts have long since fled so there’s nothing to encourage her to stop.

“Did you finish the bottle by yourself?” Mingyu asks, her tone conversational but her breath slightly heavy. Probably because she’s been carrying Minghao since they left, stopping a few times to hitch Minghao up her back once again.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, kissing the sharp corner of her jaw. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says. “I’m gonna set you down.”

“Don’t,” Minghao whines, holding tighter on Mingyu’s shoulders, nuzzling the bridge of her nose into the side of Mingyu’s neck.

Mingyu laughs, her hands squeezing tighter around Minghao’s thighs. “I have to unlock the door.”

Minghao sighs like this is all a great inconvenience to her and lets Mingyu set her carefully on the ground. She leans against the wall, watching Mingyu twist her key in the lock before dragging herself inside when the door is open.

It’s hard to keep on her feet but Minghao manages to make it into the bathroom, sitting on the rim of the big, claw-footed tub while she brushes her teeth. Mingyu is lingering in the door with a tight, concerned furrow in her brow.

“I’m not gonna fall in,” Minghao says, voice muffled by the wad of toothpaste in her mouth.

Mingyu seems to catch the meaning of her words okay because she laughs. “I know. Do you still feel sick?”

Minghao shakes her head. She spits in the sink, rinsing the brush off before sticking it back in her mouth for a second pass. 

“Are we having a sleepover?” Minghao asks after she spits again and drops her toothbrush back in the holder.

“I don’t think you can call it that when we only own one bed,” Mingyu says. She holds her hand out, grasping Minghao’s elbow gently.

“Do you want us to have two beds?” Minghao asks, her words stumbling a little, too focused on the path of her feet. The apartment is small— it’s easy to get from the bathroom to the bed. She could do it on her own if she had to.

Mingyu is there, though. Holding onto her each step of the way.

“It’s good like this,” Mingyu says, letting go of Minghao’s arm when she sits on the edge of the bed. She left her shoes by the door, which means she has to concentrate on taking off her socks, then her jeans. It sticks in her mind— Mingyu says _good_ , not _fine_ or _okay_.

Mingyu watches her kick fruitlessly at her jeans for a moment before leaning over and hooking her fingers in the tight waist, hauling them down and off Minghao’s legs. They end up dropped in the hamper of dirty laundry but Minghao isn’t paying attention.

She flops back on the bed and does her best not to think about Mingyu undressing her. Fails. Rolls to face Mingyu when she lays down as well.

She must have flipped the lights off without Minghao noticing, or maybe they were never on, to begin with because when Mingyu lays close to her, it’s dark. There’s plenty of space in the bed for both of them, but the canyon of space is smaller than usual. Minghao can feel Mingyu’s warmth, seeping into the bed, the blankets, into her skin.

For one moment, Minghao’s thoughts are all crystal sharp and intent on only one thing; she wants to kiss Mingyu’s mouth.

In her mind, it goes like this: she leans in, ghosts her fingers over Mingyu’s cheek and kisses her, slow and soft. Mingyu’s mouth is cool and minty from brushing her teeth too and Minghao’s ankle catches around hers because they’re so close. It only lasts a second, enough for Mingyu’s breath to rush out against her lips.

When she leans back, Mingyu’s eyes are slightly wide, catching the low light of the room and reflecting it back. She doesn’t say anything. Minghao doesn’t either. She rolls over, curling up on her side of the bed with her back to Mingyu and shuts her eyes.

It’s all a little too much like a dream, anyway.


	2. summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can get in with me,” Minghao says.
> 
> “I don’t think I’ll fit,” Mingyu says, her laughter spilling out in nervous bursts. Minghao trails her fingers through the water, looking up at Mingyu with what could almost be a pout on her face. “It’ll overflow.”

as sometimes at sunset  
the rosyfingered moon  
  
surpasses all the stars

The best-worst feature of the apartment when they moved in was the old air conditioner. It rattled horrifically the first time they turned it on and in spite of Mingyu’s caring attention in trying to keep it running, it refuses to turn on.

Minghao stares at the old unit and groans in despair, pressing at the button once again in the hopes that she’ll somehow be able to resurrect it. It groans in response, the fan inside rattling vainly for a few seconds before it falls dead.

It’s what makes sense on a cosmic level, Minghao figures, that the air conditioning would die on the day when the temperature outside rockets up to nearly 90 degrees. She can feel the sweat beading up on the back of her neck in response to its failure to start.

The apartment is small enough that some of the cold air manages to stick around, and Minghao could always leave and take sanctuary somewhere else— Seokmin’s apartment or the library— once the sticky heat starts to creep in from the outside. 

She ends up sprawled on the floor of the living room instead, figuring if it’s this hot inside it’ll only be worse going outside. She strips down to a sports bra and shorts of mysterious origin that she could never be convinced to wear outside. She isn’t sure if they belonged to her or Mingyu originally but she can’t be assed to care, either.

Unlike Mingyu, subjected to running errands and being dragged around by Soonyoung in spite of the heat, Minghao doesn’t have anywhere to be. She spends too long on the floor, half-dozing, half reading a book, hoping that the old wood will somehow keep her from being subjected to too much of the heat.

It doesn’t really work, but that’s where she is when Mingyu comes back in the afternoon, with her limbs star-fished away from her body and her eyes half open, book forgotten on her stomach.

Mingyu looks at her, then at the silent air conditioner, and heaves out a sigh. “It won’t run?”

“Dead,” Minghao says, lifting her head a little, eyes lazily tracking Mingyu as she walks across the room.

“Are you dead too?” Mingyu asks, pausing to nudge her foot against Minghao’s ribs. Minghao nods, forcing her eyes open all the way to stare up at Mingyu with her lip pushed out in a slight pout.

“Yes,” Minghao says, wrapping her fingers around Mingyu’s ankle and giving it a little tug. “Fix it.”

Mingyu laughs shaking Minghao’s hand off with a little shake of her head. “I’ll do my best.”

Forty-five concentrated minutes later and Mingyu is sitting on the floor with random mechanical pieces scattered around her, a smudge of grease on one of her tanned cheeks. She scratches the back of her head, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail with her bangs stuck to her forehead by a thin sheen of sweat.

“I think it’s gone for good,” she says, giving her head a sad little shake. Minghao groans, dropping her head back against the hardwood floor so hard that it thuds hollowly.

Mingyu, good friend that she is, laughs before creeping over to poke at Minghao’s shoulder. “Do you have a concussion now?”

“Yes,” Minghao says, peeking one of her eyes open. “Take me to the hospital.”

Mingyu giggles, her head leaning slightly to the side as she looks down at Minghao. “You just want to go for the AC.”

“Yes,” Minghao says, sitting up on her elbows and shaking her sore head. “You can’t do anything with it?”

“The motor broke,” Mingyu says, shrugging her shoulders. “And I think one of the belts is rotted. It’s probably not even worth what it’d take to fix.”

Minghao nearly throws herself to the floor again, just barely thinking better of it— she’d rather not crack her skull open for real.

“So we live like this now?” She asks, frowning at Mingyu. The clear disapproval in her voice isn’t really getting her anywhere; neither of them has the money required to buy a new air conditioner for the apartment and it’s unlikely that the landlord is going to be in a rush to replace it either.

Mingyu just smiles like she’s not going to be complaining about the heat in an hour as well. “I guess so.”

**{* * *}**

Mingyu isn’t expecting to get home from shopping for groceries to the sound of water sloshing around in the bathroom. It’s faint, the door cracked open just enough for her to make it out.

It seems far too hot to take a bath— the heat and humidity have only gotten worse. It makes Mingyu want to crawl out of her skin, especially because no matter what she does she can’t keep herself from sweating.

She screws her face up a little, setting the bags down on the counter to be dealt with later, crossing the apartment in a few long strides to tap her knuckles gently against the door of the bathroom.

“I’m decent,” Minghao says, her voice slightly muffled as well. Mingyu doesn’t really take the time to consider what that might mean before she opens the door.

Minghao’s definition of _decent_ apparently just means sinking her shoulders beneath the clear water in the tub in a wasted effort to try and cover for the fact that she’s naked. Not that it bothers Mingyu— it definitely doesn’t— but it is a surprise and it makes her freeze for a second.

Minghao has her hair down, the dark ends of it trailing in the water. Next, to the deep tub, there’s an open bottle of wine, half-empty from the other night when they were laying under the open windows and drinking wine only to complain about how it made the room that much hotter. One of their proper glasses is sitting next to it, mostly drained.

“Aren’t you dying?” Mingyu asks, shaking her head, looking at the bottle. It seems odd to be standing around in the bathroom while Minghao lounges naked in the water though she can’t name why. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s seen Minghao undressed, and living together means it certainly won’t be the last.

“Water’s cold,” Minghao says, trailing her fingers across the rippling surface with a grin. “I figured I could just use it as a pool.”

“That’s smart,” Mingyu says, laughing in spite of the awkward tension gathered up in her chest. “I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“You don’t have to,” Minghao says, a little pink creeping into her cheeks from the wine.

“What?” Mingyu replies intelligently.

“You can get in with me,” Minghao says.

“I don’t think I’ll fit,” Mingyu says, her laughter spilling out in nervous bursts. Minghao trails her fingers through the water, looking up at Mingyu with what could almost be a pout on her face. “It’ll overflow.”

“We can clean it up later,” Minghao says. She stretches one of her legs out, draping it over the side of the tub, water dripping off her heel and onto the white tiles of the floor.

Mingyu wonders how cold the water is; if it’s seeped into Minghao’s skin or if she’s still flushed warm from the wine and the weather. She wants to reach out and stroke the damp skin of Minghao’s calf to find out.

“Um,” Mingyu says, everything intelligent fleeing her mind.

Minghao stares at her, eyebrows slightly lifted like she’s challenging Mingyu to turn her down.

For once, Mingyu isn’t sure she wants to prove Minghao wrong. She swallows hard twice, trying to clear the sudden dryness from her throat, shaking her head.

“I’m gonna, um, put food away,” Mingyu says with another nervous laugh. Minghao still has one leg draped over the edge of the tub, one of her arms hooking over the side as well to join it. She rests her cheek against her arm and hums, her attention drifting away from Mingyu entirely.

“Your loss,” she says, light and teasing. Mingyu huffs, the back of her neck hot.

“I’ll try it out later,” Mingyu says, backing up toward the door. “Don’t stay in there too long.”

Minghao hums a little agreement and Mingyu shuts the door behind her a little too hastily, making it rattle a little in the frame.

She hopes Minghao will just chalk it up to regular clumsiness, not whatever feeling is shaking Mingyu down to her bones.

**{* * *}**

“I can’t live like this anymore,” Mingyu says, pulling her hair away from where it’s stuck to the back of her neck with a groan, leaning forward.

They have two small fans, stolen from Seokmin and Jun, struggling to circulate air through the apartment but it’s not making much of a difference. Mingyu has been whimpering about her hair for the last two days after realizing that even trying to keep it up all the time wouldn’t save her from suffering with it.

“Cut it off,” Minghao says, shrugging her shoulders. She’s not really ignoring Mingyu but she’s not fully paying attention either, so she isn’t expecting it when Mingyu leans to the side, so her cheek is against Minghao’s bare shoulder, sighing out hard.

“Fine,” she says, her skin sticking to Minghao’s. “Help me.”

“You want me to chop your hair off?” Minghao asks, lifting her head to look over at Mingyu with a little grin. “Right now?”

“Yes,” Mingyu says, still fully engrossed in her own misery. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Okay,” Minghao says, brushing her fingers over the ends of Mingyu’s hair, laughing a little. “How much?”

“All of it,” Mingyu says, sitting up with a frown. “I’m serious. I want it even shorter than yours.”

Minghao’s skin feels sticky and hot where Mingyu was touching her. She stares back, lifting her eyebrows curiously. She reaches out, pulling Mingyu’s hair out of its neat ponytail, letting the elastic wrap itself around her wrist, grinning and fluffing her fingers through the thick waves of it.

“Alright,” she says, nodding her head. Who is she to argue, anyway? If Mingyu wanted to shave her entire head, Minghao would still be happy to help. “I’ll get the nice scissors. We can do it in the bathroom.”

Mingyu peels herself off the couch and Minghao follows after her, stopping to dig the better pair of scissors out of one of their kitchen drawers before following Mingyu into the bathroom.

It’s slightly cooler in there, probably because of the tiled floors and the big open window, the gauzy white curtains Minghao put up fluttering at the choked breeze that drifts in from outside. Mingyu sits on the edge of the tub, her feet inside of it, with her back facing Minghao.

“We don’t have a mirror you can look at,” Minghao says, setting the scissors down and grabbing a brush instead. She thinks about just passing it off to Mingyu but decides against it, brushing her hair out for her.

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says, leaning back slightly when Minghao stands behind her. “I trust you.”

Minghao doesn’t point out that Mingyu is the one who’s good at this kind of thing. She also tries not to look at how Mingyu’s shorts have inched up her thighs from sitting on the porcelain edge of the tub. She doesn’t comment on the fact that Mingyu took her shirt off to avoid getting hair all over it and is now just sitting around in her bra.

It’s better to just focus on the task immediately ahead of her. “We have clippers around here somewhere too.”

“Under the sink,” Mingyu says, staring straight ahead. “I put them there last time I did your hair.”

Minghao hums, combing her fingers through Mingyu’s long hair one more time before she starts cutting it off in chunks. Mingyu seems less nervous than Minghao thinks she would if the situation were reversed, sitting mostly still except for a little shifting around to get more comfortable.

As close attention as she’s paying, Minghao can’t help but notice the small freckled spot at the back of her neck. Part of her wants to brush her thumb over it even though she’s meant to be concentrated on not ruining Mingyu’s hair.

She’s not supposed to think about how soft Mingyu’s skin would feel under her lips. She’s definitely not supposed to linger on trimming up the back of Mingyu’s neck so she can stare at the spot a little longer than necessary.

“Okay,” she says after a bit, brushing more hair away from Mingyu’s neck. “Take a look.”

Mingyu climbs out of the tub, using Minghao’s offered hand to help her step over the high side, giggling nervously as she goes. She steps in front of the mirror, balancing her weigh against the basin of the sink and leaning forward to look at the cut, her smile stretching wider.

Minghao got rid of most of her hair, shaving it down in the back but leaving her bangs just long enough to fall across her forehead. Currently, they’re sticking up from Minghao flicking her fingers through them and Minghao can’t help but think it looks cute like that, too.

Mingyu bounces lightly on her toes, looking at her reflection with a wide smile before twisting to look over her shoulder. “Do we still have bleach around?”

**{* * *}**

The days stretch on and the heat still refuses to break. Every hour Minghao spends at home usually involves the desire to crawl clean out of her skin just to try and get a little cooler.

It doesn’t help that, as big as the bed is, sharing means also sharing body heat. Most nights the sheets end up kicked to the floor and Mingyu and Minghao sleep as far apart as they can manage. They have one fan set up by the window and the other on the floor, pointed directly at Minghao’s side of the bed.

It only does so much to circulate the already steaming hot air, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Um,” Mingyu says, looking at the sheet bunched up in her hands. She’s stretched out in bed, clothes already abandoned for comfier PJs— tiny shorts and an old, thin tank top with the print worn off the front. “I have a question.”

“So ask,” Minghao says, with a little roll of her eyes. The heat makes her short, even when she’s not trying to be.

“Would it be weird if I, um, slept with my shirt off?” Mingyu asks. There’s a faint dusting of pink on her cheeks and when she looks up at Minghao, still in the middle of sorting their clothes and putting them away, her eyes are wide and sincere. “It’s so hot.”

Minghao pauses for all of thirty seconds to take stock of the screaming alarms in her head. She looks down at the shirt she’s folding before looking back at Mingyu and lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

“Sure. I don’t care,” she says, lying straight through her teeth. “Go for it.”

It isn’t that she’s scandalized by the concept of Mingyu not wearing a shirt. Minghao’s hardly bothered by nudity; her own or anyone else’s. But it’s also going to be hard to tune out the knowledge that Mingyu is two feet away from her _and_ half-naked.

Minghao has been having plenty of trouble with just the first part, lately. If it weren’t so hot, she’s not sure she would be able to resist curling up against Mingyu, arms wrapped around her waist or head tucked under her chin. She wonders if Mingyu would give into the cuddling if she were already asleep or if she’d wake up.

Maybe she would wake up but let Minghao continue anyway, soft-hearted as she is.

She turns her attention back to the clothes in front of her, though she can hear the soft flutter of Mingyu’s shirt hitting the floor. Mingyu sighs, relieved to have the shirt off and Minghao can hear her wiggling around, probably getting comfortable.

“Are you almost done?” Mingyu asks, giggling a little. Usually, Minghao would turn around and snap something at her but she’s aware if she does that now she’s just going to get an eyeful of Mingyu’s bare body.

And well… some things are better left alone, Minghao is pretty sure. Mingyu gives her plenty to think about without the added visual of her stretched out shirtless in bed.

But Minghao can’t stare at their pile of laundry forever and she’s forced eventually to set the basket to the side, empty, and get up to shut off the old lamp they have dimly lighting their cordoned off bedroom area. She knows too well that Mingyu only adheres to a bare minimum of modesty anyway and so she does her best to keep her eyes on anything in the room _but_ the bed.

And manages to smack her shin on a box of something-or-other that somehow managed to end up in her path.

Mingyu, traitor that she is, laughs, rolling from her back onto her stomach. The sheet is draped loosely over her back, her arms tucked under her chin, bare shoulders peeking out. Minghao hisses, rubbing at her shin, doing her best to act like she’s not staring. (She is.)

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, still laughing, the corners of her eyes crinkled. “Do you need me to kiss it better?”

“My leg?” Minghao says, forcing an awkward laugh out from the center of her chest. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, though she doesn’t move or go back to her phone. She settles into place a little further, leaning her cheek against her arm, watching Minghao rub at her shin and hobble more carefully over to the lamp. The weight of Mingyu’s eyes makes the corner of Minghao’s mouth twitch nervously but she can’t name why— doesn’t want to think too hard about it.

The heat makes people crazy. Whatever this tangled knot of feelings in her chest is, it’ll pass with when the heatwave breaks.

Minghao flips the lamp off, climbing onto her side of the bed with a little hum, flopping over on her side, back to Mingyu. The room goes dark, the only sound is the buzzing of the old fans and the sounds of the street below drifting in through the open window. She can feel the mattress shift when Mingyu rolls over but is still surprised by the sudden press of warmth against her back.

Mingyu squeezes close to her, giggling and Minghao can feel skin-against-skin and the plush pressing of Mingyu’s chest against her back. In spite of herself, she stops breathing.

“I’ll make you breakfast in the morning,” Mingyu says, offering it for no particular reason that Minghao can think of.

“Is it going to be pancakes again?” Minghao says, twisting to look over her shoulder. She’s surprised by how close Mingyu is, her wide smile taking up the bulk of Minghao’s vision.

“Do you not want me to make pancakes?” Mingyu says, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

“Nah,” Minghao says shaking her head. “Your pancakes are good.”

Mingyu smiles even wider, and when she leans in Minghao thinks for one delirious second that Mingyu is going to kiss her. She doesn’t— Mingyu’s dry lips pass harmlessly over her forehead and she pulls back before Minghao even shuts her eyes.

“Your head is warm,” Mingyu says when she pulls back, her eyebrows inching together. “Do you feel okay?”

“It’s like one hundred percent humidity,” Minghao says, rolling her eyes. “Of course I’m warm.”

Mingyu laughs and Minghao can feel the vibration of it in her chest.

“Good point,” she says. She lets go of Minghao and wiggles back to her own side of the bed, laying on her back once again. “Sweet dreams.”

Minghao hums out a response, shutting her eyes and trying to drop off to sleep before she gets too hot to even try.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu isn’t sure at what point— in what way— she ended up where she is… kneeling in front of the bed with one of Minghao’s bare calves in her hand, skin barely brushing her fingertips.

Minghao is laughing, soft and warm, the sound of it wrapping around Mingyu. There’s no mark on her shin, but Mingyu still feels compelled to lean forward and press her mouth against it anyway, following the sharp line of her bone.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Minghao says, exactly how she did earlier, needling Mingyu gently for her concern. But she doesn’t move away, extending her leg a little more. She drops one hand from the side of the bed to run her fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

There’s some kind of tension in the air that Mingyu can’t name. Everything outside the stretch of her vision; the bed in front of her, the rumpled sheet trying to fall onto the floor, and Minghao, is hazy. Mingyu keeps her lips against Minghao’s skin, sliding her hand down to wrap her fingers around Minghao’s ankle, thumb tracing the arch of her delicate bones. After a moment, she follows the same path with her mouth. She presses small, chaste kisses against Minghao’s soft skin.

Minghao’s fingers tighten in her hair, not enough to pull but enough that Mingyu can’t ignore the feeling of it. She isn’t sure who is leading and who is following, but her mouth finds its way up the inside of Minghao’s leg— over the jut of bone in her ankle and the muscle of her calf, pausing to let her breath tickle the inside of Minghao’s knee.

Her breath hitches, getting caught in her chest when Minghao’s legs gently slip apart, making more space for Mingyu’s head between her thighs. It seems like the right thing to do is just to keep dragging her mouth up, over the curve of Minghao’s knee and along the tender inside of her thigh.

She’s so intent on it that she’s surprised by Minghao’s hand on her shoulder, looking up with her lips parted slightly. Minghao grins, loose and warm, giving Mingyu a little tug.

Mingyu realizes slowly that she’s not wearing clothes— neither of them are, actually. That doesn’t seem strange either once Mingyu notices it. Minghao pulls her up onto the bed, holding Mingyu’s arms and guiding her until she’s laying on top, the two of them pressed together skin-to-skin.

She wants to kiss Minghao. She’s pretty sure Minghao wants to be kissed, too, the way she’s looking up with her eyes half-lidded and her lips parted. Still, Mingyu hesitates when she closes the last of the distance, pausing when Minghao’s breath is tickling her cheek.

When she presses their lips together, Minghao’s mouth is warm and soft against hers and it makes Mingyu want to forget what it’s like to kiss anyone else. Minghao’s fingers curve around the back of her neck, pulling Mingyu in closer.

It’s fine— the last thing that Mingyu wants right now is to pull away.

Minghao’s body arches up into hers and Mingyu presses herself back into it, shutting her eyes. Minghao’s thigh is trapped between her legs, the tips of her fingers scraping down Mingyu’s back. It makes Mingyu feel dizzy like the world is tilting out from under her and the only thing she has to hold onto is Minghao.

She buries her face in the crook of Minghao’s neck, making a tiny, shivery sound when one of Minghao’s warm hands traces over the back of her thigh.

“Are you shy?” She asks the question taking Mingyu by surprise. She nods, not pulling her head away. Minghao laughs, her chest pressing into Mingyu’s, the sound bleeding into her as well. “Do you want me to?”

Mingyu doesn’t know really what Minghao is asking but she doesn’t need to, either. She nods again and Minghao hums out a pleased sound, kissing Mingyu’s temple.

One of Minghao’s hands slips between her thighs and Mingyu isn’t surprised, really, except by how badly she _does_ want Minghao to touch her like this. She squeezes the inside of Mingyu’s thigh, dragging her hand up until her fingers find the soft folds of Mingyu’s labia.

Mingyu muffles a sound in Minghao’s neck, skin burning everywhere, pressing her mouth against Minghao. Minghao is deliberate and slow, dragging one of her fingers through where Mingyu is sticky-wet between her legs.

Something about it is so intimate that Mingyu feels like her stomach might burst. Minghao’s finger traces in a circle around her clit and Mingyu jolts, dragging her teeth over the side of Minghao’s neck.

Minghao pulls her hand away just as Mingyu tries to shove her hips down against it.

“Lay on your back for me, honey,” Minghao says before Mingyu complains about anything. It takes a moment for Mingyu to reconnect her brain with her limbs, rolling herself to the side, almost off the edge of the bed, stretching out on her back with a little groan.

Minghao sits up, then pauses, looking Mingyu over. It makes Mingyu shy and excited all at once. She wants to bury her face in Minghao’s chest and hide, or put her mouth on the peak of one of Minghao’s nipples and see if it makes her feel good. Mingyu presses her thighs tight together without realizing it, stretching both arms out to draw Minghao against her.

Mingyu sits up as much as she can, chasing another kiss from Minghao’s lips, laying a tentative hand on one of her breasts. Minghao’s skin is soft and yielding as a fresh peach and Mingyu turns her wrist to balance the slight weight of them. Minghao’s chest is fairly flat, covered almost totally by Mingyu’s palm, her nipples several shades darker than the rest of her skin.

Minghao laughs softly against her lips, fingers wrapping around Mingyu’s wrist, encouraging Mingyu to massage her fingers in Minghao’s skin.

Her hand draws up the inside of Mingyu’s thigh again, pressing her thighs gently apart, her back gently arched into Mingyu’s hand. Mingyu swallows hard, letting her legs fall open but tilting her head back when Minghao’s fingers press between her lips again, circling around her clit without yet touching it directly. Mingyu bites down on the inside of her cheek, her hips arching forward into the light touch of Minghao’s fingers.

“Does that feel good, darling?” Minghao asks, her voice soft. The pad of her finger presses down on Mingyu’s clit, a grin creeping up on her face when Mingyu whines a little at the question. She nods her head anyway, letting her head fall back against the bed. Minghao’s grin gets a little wider, pressing Mingyu’s thighs further apart. Her finger slips in Mingyu’s hole easily, the wet slide of it making Mingyu’s face burn.

Minghao leans in closer, her breath blowing warm over the side of Mingyu's neck. The heat of her skin pressing against Mingyu's is almost suffocating but Mingyu is still too distracted by the circling of Minghao's thumb on her clit to really care about it. She's pushing her hips up into the friction in uneven kicks, trying to pull away in the next instant from the intensity. 

She says something else… Mingyu can feel the moving of her lips but it never really processes as words, the whole room going fuzzy around the edges. Mingyu tries to blink but finds her eyes already shut and for a second she wonders if she's already hanging on the edge of coming on Minghao's fingers. 

When she opens her eyes, she's staring up at the dark ceiling of the bedroom, the old fans droning and Minghao distinctly on the other side of the bed. It takes her several confused seconds to realize that's how things have been for a while; she's sweating because she must have rolled herself up in the sheet when Minghao kicked it off and there's a distinct, embarrassing dampness between her thighs.

Minghao is facing the wall, taking quiet, even breaths. Blissfully unaware of what Mingyu's unconscious mind has been cooking up a few feet away.

Mingyu untangles herself from the sheet, shoving it off the end of the bed and rolling herself to her feet. She pads off to the bathroom, hoping Minghao doesn't also choose now to jolt into wakefulness. 

She needs a long, cold shower and enough time to force the strange dream out of her head. 

It's normal, she figures, to have some dreams about Minghao. They spend most of their lives together in one way or another and it makes sense that would carry over to her sleeping mind sometimes. 

But Mingyu has never had a dream like _that_ about Minghao. Or any other girl, for that matter. She's used to being teased for being the one straight girl who Seokmin and Minghao hang out with. She's used to thinking about Minghao just as her best friend… almost like a sister, they're so close and in tune with each other. 

It feels weird to apply that description now, after dreaming about Minghao kissing her, putting a hand between her legs, calling her _darling_ like she really means it. 

Mingyu leans her forehead against the cold, tiled wall of the shower, squeezing her eyes shut. There's still residual heat running through her veins like her body can't quite be convinced it's not something she wants to try for real. Even with the shower turned so cold that goosebumps erupt over her skin, Mingyu is surprised she's not giving off steam. 

She can't help herself from trying to pull the dream image of Minghao pressing her down on the bed back to mind. She's so willowy and slim that the weight probably wouldn't feel like much at all. Even though her memories of Minghao kissing her are slightly hazy from sleepiness and surprise, Mingyu can recall how smooth and full they felt, slightly tacky from her lipstick.

It all definitely makes her feel… something. She’s just not sure yet what that something is.

When she starts getting too cold, Mingyu climbs out of the shower and drags herself back to bed, still a little damp, sinking into a shallow, unsatisfying sleep.

**{* * *}**

Minghao manages to slip out the door just after the sun comes up when the air is still sticky with humidity but the full heat of the day hasn’t set in yet. It’s hard to want to do anything when it’s so hot out and as nice as sitting around at home while Mingyu makes her a fattening breakfast sounds, Minghao has too much energy for just waiting around for the day to begin.

So, she squirms her way out of bed and into running clothes before Mingyu even wakes up, tying her hair in a short little tail at the back of her head and sets out for a few laps around the block to try and get rid of some of the excess.

Even with the sun not yet risen all the way, it only takes three blocks for Minghao to be uncomfortably warm, though the breeze makes goosebumps rise up on her skin, cooling the tacky layer of sweat on her skin. That, combined with the steady building of a headache makes Minghao give up on going any further, turning and jogging back in the direction of the apartment.

When she gets back, the room is far cooler than when she left, but Mingyu is in the kitchen, wearing a loose tank and the same shorts she wore to bed, humming to herself over a bowl over what’s probably pancake batter.

Minghao pulls her headphones out, dropping them alongside her phone and collapsing onto the floor with a groan. She rolls on her side after a moment, curling her knees toward her stomach in the hopes of easing the persistent cramp that developed on her way back.

Mingyu blinks, setting the bowl down and looking at the tiny, curled up form of Minghao on the floor.

“Are you okay?” She asks, walking over and kneeling down next to Minghao. “You look like you have a wicked hangover.”

“Wasn’t even drunk,” Minghao says, her voice dragging a little.

“I know,” Mingyu says, stroking a hand over the skin of Minghao’s forehead. The touch of her skin against Minghao’s is a surprise, the heat of it making her twitch back. Mingyu frowns, her fingers hovering in the air. “Do you want some water?”

Minghao nods, sitting up slowly, leaning her back against the counter with a long groan. “Yes, please.”

Mingyu picks herself back up, though she looks reluctant to move away. Minghao shuts her eyes but she can hear Mingyu clattering around in the kitchen, getting a glass down from the cupboards and turning the tap on to fill it. She brings it back over with a little smile on her face, passing it over into Minghao’s waiting hands.

“Why did you get me warm water?” Minghao asks after two sips, setting the glass down and wrinkling her nose. Mingyu blinks, leaning her head to the side.

“It’s not,” Mingyu says, laughing a little. “Do you want ice?”

Minghao nods, and Mingyu whisks the glass off, coming back a minute later with several cubes of ice tinkling together in the glass. Minghao takes it from her once again, downing half of it before nearly coughing it out, setting the glass down and shaking her head.

“It’s still warm,” she says, definitely whining now.

Mingyu’s eyebrows creep together now, shaking her head. “It’s really not. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Minghao nods, then frowns, looking around. “Can you shut one of the fans off?”

“Are you cold?” Mingyu asks, walking around the counter once again. Minghao nods, holding up her arm to let Mingyu see the raised bumps on her skin.

Mingyu crouches down in front of her once again, taking up the whole of Minghao’s vision, stroking her bangs away from her eyes, palm pressing into her forehead.

“You have pretty eyes,” Minghao says because it’s the only thing that occurs to her.

“You have a fever,” Mingyu says, a mix of amused and concerned. She holds her hands out, grabbing Minghao’s arms and gently pulling her up off the floor. “Does your head hurt?”

“And my stomach,” Minghao says, huffing as she’s deposited on the couch rather than the floor.

“You should sit in the shower to cool off,” Mingyu says, already bustling off in the other direction. “I’m gonna run and buy Gatorade or something… I think you need electrolytes.”

The concept of Mingyu leaving is suddenly distressing to her and Minghao sits up with a groan, reaching out and scrabbling her fingers around Mingyu’s wrist when she goes by. “No leaving.”

“I can’t leave?” Mingyu asks, stopping with Minghao’s fingers wrapped weakly around her.

“Stay here,” Minghao says, doing her best to frown. She’s shaking a little, from her shoulders down her spine, and it makes it hard to look properly intimidating.

Mingyu’s face melts anyway, twisting so her hand is holding Minghao’s instead. “Alright. But I have to go get you some stuff in a bit so you feel better.”

“Later,” Minghao says, though she doesn’t quite agree that Mingyu needs to go away for that.

“Fine, later,” Mingyu says with a little sigh. “You need to cool off in the meantime.”

“You too,” Minghao says, though she’s not sure that’s exactly what Mingyu means.

Regardless, Mingyu pulls her up off the couch and helps her stumble into the bathroom, one warm hand on the small of Minghao’s back. Minghao sits on the edge of the tub as best she can, pointing at it with a little frown.

“Fill it up,” she says, almost laughing at how quick Mingyu is to comply.

Once the tub is half full of cool water, Mingyu steps back, hovering in the door with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay. That should be, um, good.”

“Aren’t you coming in?” Minghao asks, sitting up and wrestling her shirt over her head. Her sports bra follows along after it, both landing in a pile on the floor. Mingyu is looking in a totally different direction, bright blots of pink on her cheeks.

“I don’t need a bath,” she says.

“I could fall in,” Minghao responds, lurching up to her feet to grab after Mingyu again. It ends up with Mingyu catching her, making sure she doesn’t fall. Minghao laughs, surprised by the sound of it coming out of her own mouth, holding onto Mingyu’s shirt. “See?”

“I guess,” Mingyu says, still hesitating.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu ends up, somehow, spending her Sunday morning sitting in a tub of cold water, fully dressed, with a very naked Minghao leaning against her chest. She has her legs bent, knees sticking up out of the water like strangely tanned islands and her arms are draped carefully over the edge of the tub. All of this and she can still feel the fever-bright heat of Minghao seeping into her skin, even through the cool water and her clothes.

Minghao, for her part, seems to be drifting half-awake, using Mingyu’s shoulder as a pillow. She keeps mumbling, little phrases that Mingyu doesn’t get the chance to put together into real thoughts. She seems intent on not letting Mingyu go, though. Every time Mingyu shifts in an attempt to put a little space between them, she starts grumbling out complaints and insisting Mingyu stay put.

It shouldn’t be such a problem, but curled up in such a small space means Mingyu has no escape from Minghao’s body or her own thoughts, and the latter is starting to become a problem. It shouldn’t mean anything that her subconscious mind has decided it would be funny to torment her with the image of what it would be like, maybe, if she slept with Minghao. It’s just a dream— there’s no reason Mingyu shouldn’t be able to put the whole thing out of her mind and just move on.

But this isn’t helping.

“I should get out soon,” Mingyu says, trying to push herself out of the water without disturbing Minghao too much.

Minghao groans, clawing blindly at Mingyu’s arm to keep her from moving.

“I could beat the shit out of you,” Minghao says, twisted around halfway in the water. Her eyes are shiny from the fever and she says it so seriously that Mingyu has a hard time not laughing.

“I know you could,” Mingyu says soothingly, settling back into place. She presses her hand against Minghao’s forehead, glad that it feels like the fever is starting to go down.

“Good,” Minghao says, laying her cheek against Mingyu’s shoulder.

It’s strange how they settle in after that— Mingyu even lets herself run the tips of her fingers up and down one of Minghao’s bare shoulders twice before pulling her hand away again. She wonders what to do with the realization that she’d like less space between the two of them, not more.

Mingyu waits until she’s cold and Minghao is no longer glowing with heat to pull them out of the tub, wrapping Minghao up in a towel with the delicate, nervous energy of someone who’s never seen their roommate naked before.

(Mingyu _has_ seen Minghao naked before but she’s suddenly anxious about it now.)

She leaves Minghao sitting on the bed while she changes into dry clothes, glad when Minghao doesn’t complain about Mingyu rounding the other side of the dressing screen to bring her water.

In fact, Minghao takes it from her and drinks the whole glass without complaining about the heat. 

Mingyu coaxes her into loose clothes, just a sleeveless shirt and panties, before laying her on the couch with one of Seokmin’s droning fans pointed at her.

“Do you feel any better?” Mingyu asks, stroking her fingers softly through Minghao’s hair. Minghao hums, her eyes half shut, stretching one slim leg off the end of the couch.

“Stomach doesn’t hurt,” Minghao says, tracking Mingyu lazily while she flutters around, trying to tidy things that are already in place. “Just my head.”

“You need more water,” Mingyu says, biting the corner of her lip nervously.

“If I drink it will you sit here with me?” Minghao says, surprisingly earnest.

Mingyu blinks, pausing in the middle of the room. “Still?”

“I don’t wanna be alone,” Minghao says, though she looks away from Mingyu when she does. “I haven’t had someone baby me through being sick in a long time.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says. She’d probably promise Minghao anything when she puts it like that. Take any chance to make her smile.

“Thanks,” Minghao says, sitting up enough to make room for Mingyu when she comes back with two more large cups of water.

Minghao downs one in its entirety so Mingyu doesn’t complain when she sets the second one down. She would rather Minghao not make herself even sicker.

“They’re gonna come look at the AC in a few days,” Mingyu says, fighting down a smile when Minghao’s head ends up in her lap. The proximity probably isn’t helping keep her cool, but if it’s what Minghao wants, who is Mingyu to complain?

Minghao nods her head in agreement but Mingyu isn’t sure if she’s truly listening or if she’s just drifting off to sleep. It doesn’t matter, either way. The sleep is probably better for her than Mingyu rambling on about nothing.

After a bit, Mingyu leans her head back against the couch, slumping over a little more herself and letting her eyes fall shut. She still has a hand resting on the back of Minghao’s head, fingers petting softly through her hair until she drifts off as well.

**{* * *}**

The heat breaks the day before their air conditioning gets fixed and summer rolls through its last days. The last gasp of warmth before fall settles in but Minghao has a hard time even trying to appreciate it. Classes start up again and suddenly Minghao has an albatross hanging around her neck. After an endlessly long summer, time shrinks down, speeds up, presses in on her attention from all sides.

Everything narrows down to a singular focus with it. Seokmin and Mingyu gently try to drag her out of the house the first few weekends of the semester but Minghao is too busy working herself into a frenzy over everything.

So, she expects that Mingyu will spend this Saturday night out with her friends the way she has the least few and come home to gently tug Minghao into bed with her. Last weekend, Mingyu had fallen asleep before Minghao even did, an arm still draped loosely over her waist. Minghao could’ve moved away before she fell asleep— Mingyu wasn’t heavy or really holding onto her.

She’s pretty sure Mingyu only pulled her arm away after she started to wake up.

But, she’s surprised by Mingyu lingering around in the kitchen, shuffling her own papers and generally not getting ready to go out anywhere. It’s a little curious and surprisingly distracted considering how easy it’s been for Minghao to ignore anything but the task most immediately in front of her lately.

“When’s your party at?” She asks, lifting her eyebrows curiously. Mingyu looks over and shrugs, stretching her legs out on the couch.

“Dunno,” she says, her phone laying forgotten underneath her knee. “I think I’m gonna stay in.”

“Really?” Minghao says, setting her notes down with a little laugh. “All night?”

“I don’t need to go out every week,” Mingyu says, puffing her cheeks out in a pout. She glances at Minghao for one long second before looking away and shaking her head a little. “It’s fine.”

“Are you going to pout unless I decide to go party?” Minghao says, rolling her eyes a little. She’s already prepared to turn Mingyu down but Mingyu shakes her head, curling her legs toward her chest.

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” she says, earnest. “I just wanna spend time with you, anyway.”

She’s not prepared for Mingyu to be so sincere about it. It takes her by surprise and she smiles more than she means to.

“We can just get some wine and stay here,” Mingyu says, her voice shrinking down a little smaller. “Maybe some pizza?”

It takes all of ten seconds for Minghao to make up her mind, but she tries to hold out a little bit longer at least on the outside. It doesn’t matter— she’s grinning and so is Mingyu. She lurches up off the couch, combing her fingers back through her hair and making it stand up in messy tufts. It’s started to grow out a little, her blond bangs hanging in her eyes and the dark roots starting to creep up. Minghao should offer to help her with them soon.

“Okay,” she says, failing to sound even a little bit reluctant. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

They run out to get wine, debate for fifteen minutes about ordering pizza, then crash on the couch with Mingyu’s laptop set up a few feet away to watch a movie on netflix. Minghao has her legs in Mingyu’s lap, Mingyu’s plate of pizza resting on her shins. They’re sort of tangled up but Minghao doesn’t mind it. She’s had enough of the wine to wish they were the other way around— with her head in Mingyu’s lap rather than her legs.

It makes her frown when she realizes it. She’s been trying to take all her frivolous, romantic impulses toward Mingyu and put them away in the back of her mind. She’s only fooling herself and in the long run, she’s the only one who will end up suffering for it.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice the tension, slumping back against the couch with one of her hands wrapped around Minghao’s calf, thumb rubbing idle circles into the muscle.

There’s a soft longing in the middle of Minghao’s chest when she realizes how long it’s been since the two of them have spent a night like this Minghao has shoved all her energy into school, partially in an effort to help keep these feelings from getting their hooks any deeper into her heart.

It’s a lost cause, it seems. Sparse as her attention has been, it hasn’t kept her from waking up next to Mingyu each morning and wishing for something she knows she’ll never get. Even now, she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even really want to. She’s happy like this, relaxed and warm, nudging her leg into Mingyu’s to encourage her to keep going.

“Feel better?” Mingyu asks, tickling behind Minghao’s knee with a little grin.

“I’m fine,” Minghao says, kicking her leg with a little laugh, shaking her head.

“It’s too early to be so stressed out,” Mingyu says, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “You’re doing fine. It’s okay to still have fun.”

It would be hard for Mingyu not to have noticed, considering they live practically on top of each other now. Still, Minghao scowls, unable to stop it.

“I don’t wanna fall behind,” she says, though a lot of what she’s been trying to do is get ahead wherever she can.

“There’s no way you’re behind already,” Mingyu says, adding in a roll of her eyes at the end. “Even Seokmin is still on top of things.”

“It’s not the same,” Minghao says, tilting her head back with a sigh. “It’s too late in the game for me to start disappointing people.”

Mingyu’s expression hovers just on the edge of sadness for a moment and it makes Minghao’s chest tight.

“You won’t let anyone down,” Mingyu says, a tad softer.

Minghao tightens her lips, no good response to that coming to mind. Mingyu sits up in her spot, holding Minghao’s legs in her lap and leaning forward, a tight line forming between her eyebrows.

“I mean it,” Mingyu says, leaning in until her face is close to Minghao’s, hands resting on her knees like she’s not sure Minghao isn’t going to try and escape. “You’re already working so hard.”

Minghao opens her mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to explain but the worried furrow of Mingyu’s brow holds her attention and she brushes her thumb over it with a little sigh. Mingyu’s expression eases slightly and Minghao’s hand lingers for an extra second on the side of her face.

Mingyu leans in like she wants to prolong the contact too and Minghao drops her hand back to her lap before her mind can run away with her.

“I just need to do well— stay focused,” Minghao says with a little shake of her head. The corners of Mingyu’s mouth turn down slightly but not enough to truly be a frown. Her palm is warm on Minghao’s knee, giving it a little squeeze.

“You’re doing fine,” Mingyu says, shaking her head with a little smile. “You don’t gotta kill yourself over school to do well.”

“I won’t,” she says, rolling her eyes. Mingyu sighs, leaning back against the couch, shaking her head once again.

“You’re so stubborn,” Mingyu says, lamenting, tilting her head back with a groan.

Minghao could point out that things are different for the two of them— Mingyu already has her parents connections to help her in finding a job, that she’s always been a good student with minimal effort, that she didn’t leave home for years to study in another city.

But she doesn’t know how to explain all the weight she’s carrying. It’s not just her own expectations she has to live up to and it’s not as easy as telling herself that everything will be okay in a year. The future is too big and scary to be put in so few words and Minghao has never been very touchy-feely, to begin with.

So she shrugs her shoulders, reaching over to grab her glass of wine and shooting Mingyu a little smile in the hope that she’ll drop the subject. “If I’m stubborn what does that make you?”

Mingyu smiles, though it’s a little shaky around the edges, rubbing her hand up and down Minghao’s leg again. “I’m not stubborn.”

“Hard headed,” Minghao says, tapping her knuckles on the side of Mingyu’s forehead with a laugh. Mingyu grins as well, tickling under Minghao’s knee and making her leg twitch.

“Whatever,” she says, puffing her cheeks out. “I just don’t want you to feel bad.”

Mingyu has a knack for being unexpectedly candid with her feelings and as always, Minghao isn’t sure how to respond.

“I’ll be okay,” she says, grabbing one of Mingyu’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

Mingyu smiles, for real this time, giving Minghao’s hand a squeeze in return before settling in to watch the rest of the movie, still holding onto Minghao’s hand.

She doesn’t have the heart to pull it away.


	3. fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We really don’t have to, um,” Mingyu starts, shaking her head with a laugh in the middle. “I don’t really need you to throw me at guys or anything.”
> 
> “I know,” Minghao says after an overly generous sip of her own drink. “Do you want me to leave?”
> 
> “No,” Mingyu says, her hand ghosting over the small of Minghao’s back. It’s such a small, quick gesture that after a moment Minghao isn’t even sure if it was really Mingyu’s hand she felt to begin with. “I don’t want you to go.”

Come to me now: loose me from hard  
care and all my heart longs  
to accomplish, accomplish. You  
be my ally.

It’s easy to settle into living with Mingyu, really. They don’t have much to fight about from the beginning; they like the same decorating concepts, Minghao likes to shower in the morning after she stretches, Mingyu likes to do it at night so her hair can dry. They’re both mostly tidy and not that loud.

They settle into their shared space so easily that Minghao doesn’t really notice it at all.

So, she doesn’t think about sitting sprawled out on the floor of Boo Seungkwan’s dorm room, the questionable old carpet digging rough into her palms and rolling her head to the side to shoot Mingyu a pair of wide, sweet eyes.

“Honey,” she says, bumping her knee against Mingyu’s. “Can you hand me my bag?”

Mingyu glances over and half-heartedly rolls her eyes, then twists to the side to grab Minghao’s overstuffed backpack and hand it over.

It takes a few seconds for Minghao to realize that Seungkwan is laughing, followed by a little bit of whispering before Seokmin joins in.

“What?” Mingyu says, looking up at the two of them, head tilted like a puppy.

“Honey?” Seungkwan says, barely making it out through her own giggles. “Is that what you respond to now?”

Minghao can feel the back of her neck flush pink and she slumps over in an effort to hide it.

“It’s just a joke,” she says, still feeling a little silly. She started calling Mingyu little pet names around the apartment solely because it was funny and sometimes it made it easier to talk Mingyu into doing favors for her.

Somewhere along the line, it’s become a habit for both of them. Mingyu only really said anything about it the first few times. Now she accepts every _honey_ or _sweetheart_ without commenting.

“I think it’s nice,” Mingyu says, just a tad defensive. She doesn’t look quite as embarrassed as Minghao feels. “Besides, Soonyoung has called you grosser stuff than that.”

“Soonyoung is my girlfriend,” Seokmin says, the comparison only making her smile even wider. Minghao isn’t looking forward to further teasing about how obvious her feelings for Mingyu are.

Whatever those feelings are supposed to be— Minghao isn’t really so sure herself at this point. She’s been doing her best not to think too hard about all of it. Things with Mingyu are good as they are right now. There’s no need to make it any more complicated.

Mingyu only seems slightly set back, looking up at Seokmin and giving a little huff before shrugging her shoulders.

“Whatever,” she says, shaking her head. Her eyes dart over to Minghao for a quick second and Minghao wonders if she should pretend she doesn’t notice. It’d be nice to let the whole topic go before she has to deal with another two weeks of Seokmin muffling her laughter whenever Minghao so much as looks in Mingyu’s direction. When Minghao doesn’t say anything, glaring at her notes with the best poker face she can manage, Mingyu puffs out another offended sigh.

“I like it,” Mingyu says, shooting a look at Seokmin and Seungkwan in turn.

Seungkwan just shrugs in return, but Minghao can see the look glittering in Seokmin’s eyes and she has to resist the urge to clap a hand over Mingyu’s mouth to keep her from saying anything else.

“It’s sweet,” Seokmin says, leaning back against one of the pillows with a giggle that’s only half as innocent as it seems coming from her.

Minghao’s desire to sink through the floor is only slightly lessened. Mingyu settles back into her spot and after a few minutes, leans over with her chin on Minghao’s shoulder.

“I should get to call you stuff too,” she says, not nearly quiet enough to avoid being overheard.

“You can if you want,” Minghao says, mumbling a little bit. Her cheeks are warm for no good reason. “I won’t stop you.”

“Really?” Mingyu says like this is an unexpected gift. Minghao laughs, rolling her shoulder in a half-hearted effort to dislodge Mingyu from it.

“As long as it isn’t stupid,” Minghao says, shaking her head. “And no food ones, those are cringey.”

“You call me honey,” Mingyu says, sticking her lower lip out a little.

“That’s different,” Minghao says, shaking her head once again.

“Cupcake?” Seungkwan provides, helpful as ever.

“Gumdrop,” Seokmin adds, grinning widely.

“Sugarplum,” Seungkwan says, looking at Seokmin more than Minghao. Minghao has the feeling that this list could go on for a while.

“Nothing the two of them suggest,” she adds, looking over at Mingyu and rolling her eyes.

Mingyu laughs, grinning wide enough to show the uneven points of her canines, her arms wrapping around Minghao’s shoulders to pull her in closer.

“Okay,” she says, her mouth close to Minghao’s ear now. “Darling.”

Minghao laughs, leaning her weight against Mingyu’s chest, trying not to think of anything at all.

**{* * *}**

“Do you ever have dreams about dudes?” Mingyu asks the question popping out of her mouth before she really thinks it through.

Seokmin blinks at her, pausing in her chewing, eyes wide.

“You can finish before you answer,” Mingyu says, rolling her eyes.

Seokmin grins and stuffs the last bit of her pastry into her mouth. She continues chewing, apparently in no real rush to answer Mingyu’s question.

“Dreams like what?” Seokmin asks, scratching the back of her head. “I had a dream about Soonyoung’s brother building a rocket once.”

“Not like that,” Mingyu says, sighing. She should’ve picked someone better to ask about this. Seokmin is sweet and good at telling how other people are feeling. But Mingyu doesn’t even understand what she’s feeling herself, let alone how to explain it. “Y’know, like…”

“Oh,” Seokmin says, wrinkling her nose. “No. Gross.”

So much for that theory.

“Do you?” Seokmin asks, laughing, raising her eyebrows like the question is more scandalous than it really is. Mingyu shrugs— she has in the past, of course, though in the past it’s always been the faceless conjuring of her imagination.

It’s never been someone as close to her as Minghao is. “I guess, yeah.”

“I had a dream where Soonyoung was a guy once,” Seokmin says, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully. “That count?”

“Not really,” Mingyu says, though she can’t help but laugh. “Was that gross too?”

“No,” Seokmin says, shaking her head, making her hair flip back and forth. “She was still hot.”

Mingyu’s tongue slides nervously over her bottom lip, nodding along.

“I had a dream about Minghao awhile ago,” Mingyu says, trying not to sound as nervous and awkward as she feels. It was more than one, but she’s not sure if that matters or not to this. Seokmin blinks, setting her coffee down and leaning across the table between them, making it scrape across the floor.

“Was she a dude?” Seokmin asks. Mingyu isn’t surprised that Seokmin is so interested. She’s been the unofficial protector of all of Mingyu’s secrets for the past three years— completely trustworthy as long as you don’t mind Soonyoung also knowing. Mingyu shakes her head, combing her fingers nervously through her hair.

“It’s not like… weird, is it?” Mingyu asks, chewing the corner of her lip.

“I dunno,” Seokmin says, shrugging her shoulders with a grin. “Was there like… whips and chains involved?”

“No,” Mingyu says, rolling her eyes. Seokmin’s grin stretches wider, her eyes curving into half-moons.

“Probably not, then,” Seokmin says. “You two are in kinda close quarters. It makes sense.”

Mingyu nods, still biting down on her lip, thinking. Seokmin seems to realize that’s not quite all of it.

“Are you worried about it?” She asks, tipping her head to the side curiously. “I doubt Minghao would care.”

“No, but it’s like…” Mingyu trails off, a flush creeping up the back of her mind. “It was really, um, vivid. I can’t get it out of my head.”

Seokmin blinks twice. “Are you saying you can’t stop thinking about Minghao fucking you?”

For a long moment, Mingyu is quiet. Too long, in fact, because Seokmin’s curiosity melts away in favor of laughing instead. She splays her arms out on the table, her cheek pressed against the surface, making the whole thing shake with her laughter.

“Is it that funny?” Mingyu says, a little more sour than she means to be. Seokmin looks up at her, laying her cheek on top of her arms, still giggling just a little.

“It kinda is,” she says, nodding her head. “I thought you were gonna be straight forever.”

“It was just a dream,” Mingyu says, sinking lower in her seat.

Seokmin rolls her eyes, sitting up properly and tucking her hair behind her ears. “If Minghao was a guy you’d already be married, probably.”

“You think I have a crush on Minghao?” Mingyu asks, trying to make the very idea of it sound ridiculous.

“I know you have a crush on Minghao,” Seokmin days, shaking her head. “If I wanted to move in and share a bed with you would you say yes?”

“I’m not spending the rest of my life cleaning up after you,” Mingyu says, frowning

“That’s a no,” Seokmin says, sounding far too happy about the whole thing. “Have you hooked up with anyone since you moved?”

“I haven’t felt like it,” Mingyu says, a touch defensively.

“Because you like Minghao.”

“So if I get laid tonight that’ll prove you wrong?”

“No,” Seokmin says, rolling her eyes. “That just means you’re stubborn.”

“Or it means I’m not gay,” Mingyu says, fully aware she’s sulking now.

“You know you can like both,” Seokmin says, leaning her cheek on the palm of her hand. “Or in your case you can like stupid guys and Minghao.”

Mingyu groans, leaning back in her seat and shutting her eyes. When she opens them again, Seokmin is still smiling at her.

“Is it that big a deal?” She asks, shrugging once more. “You like Minghao.”

“Yeah, the person who I have to share a bed with tonight,” Mingyu says, grumbling. Seokmin, intuitive as she is, doesn’t seem to see the bigger problem with all of this.

“You guys just skipped like, the first four steps,” Seokmin says, laughing softly. “It’s not that hard to figure out from here.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what to do with Seokmin’s assumption that Mingyu’s feelings are destined to be matched by Minghao’s own. She doesn’t even know how to begin thinking about it in those terms. Having a crush on Minghao alone seemed so far out of the realm of possibility until this moment when she realized it was already going on without her noticing.

But she’s pretty sure that if Minghao had feelings for her, she would’ve noticed it long before this. Weird sex dreams and drunken kisses aside, it doesn’t seem to Mingyu like Minghao treats her any differently now that she did before.

She doesn’t point any of this out to Seokmin— at this point, she’s scared she’ll get another earth-shaking revelation and never be able to go home again.

“Just tell her you like girls,” Seokmin says when Mingyu is getting ready to leave. “You don’t have to say it’s her. Do one thing at a time.”

Mingyu frowns because it’s good advice and she didn’t think of it herself and she’s reluctant to give Seokmin another win over her today.

“Maybe,” she says, grumbling a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Seokmin smiles, patting Mingyu on the shoulder before going toward her own class, leaving Mingyu to sort the rest out on her own.

**{* * *}**

As much as Mingyu likes living with Minghao, the greatest downside is the severe lack of privacy in their apartment. Outside of the bathroom, there isn't even another door to hide behind and it's sort of impossible to comfortably jerk off with someone asleep next to you.

Mingyu would wonder what Minghao does when she needs relief but thinking about that only makes her current problems worse. 

It's starting to seem like maybe Seokmin was right. She might have feelings for Minghao. She might have a lot of them, even. 

So when Minghao gets dragged out for dinner with Jun at some special Chinese place for her birthday, Mingyu doesn't feel bad for not being invited along. She takes the chance to stretch herself out on her side of the bed, fingers nervously following the lines of her hip bone. 

The problem is Mingyu is pretty sure she wants to sleep with Minghao. Like… really wants to sleep with her, if her dreams are any indication. She wants to put her mouth on Minghao's, to touch her chest, to stick her head between Minghao's thighs and stay there for however long it takes to learn how to make her come. 

But she also feels bad for wanting all those things. Like she's taking advantage of Minghao's trust and friendship. If Minghao knew how often Mingyu had obscene dreams about her, she definitely wouldn't want to share a bed anymore. 

She wouldn't want to share anymore either if she knew about this— Mingyu stretched out in their bed with a hand between her thighs, rubbing her fingers over her labia slowly, thinking about how nice it would be to have Minghao's hands on her. She can picture the long, elegant shape of her fingers and the way they might drag over her skin…

Mingyu squeezes her eyes shut tight, lower lip caught between her teeth, trying to relax enough to just let her mind wander. As much as she tries not to any other time, she can’t help but wonder now if Minghao has to do the same thing she is now— waiting until the apartment is empty or trying to get herself off in the bathroom without making a lot of noise. She probably uses the tub for that, Mingyu decides, sunk all the way down in the water with the short tendrils of her hair floating around her face and her breasts just peeking above the line of the water into the chilly air instead.

She thinks about Minghao soaking in the tub with a glass of wine, grinning and asking if Mingyu wants to join her with one leg extended over the porcelain rim. Only this time Mingyu doesn’t panic and run away. This time she says yes and sits on her knees next to the tub and takes Minghao’s leg in one of her hands, kissing along the bone of her shin, licking tiny drops of water off.

It’s that image that makes Mingyu groan, rolling on her side and shoving her face against the mattress, rolling her fingers over her clit. She could let Minghao direct her through it, her soft, eager voice bouncing off the tile, damp fingers knotting in Mingyu’s hair and pulling her in to kiss her. She’d strip her clothes off, Minghao’s tongue in her mouth for as long as possible before drawing Mingyu into the water with her, making the bath overflow and water slosh on the floor.

Mingyu presses her shoulder into the bed, knees sliding across the sheets. She presses a finger inside herself, bunching the sheets up in her other hand. She’s stupidly, achingly into the idea of sinking into the tub to find herself with one of Minghao’s hands between her thighs instead of her own.

She’s so invested in her own fantasy— in fucking two fingers unsteadily in and out of her pussy— that she doesn’t hear the sound of Minghao’s keys rattling outside or the solid thud when she shoves the door open and then shut again with her foot. Which means when Mingyu keens out a little sound of frustration, the edge of her orgasm still painfully eluding her, she doesn’t expect anyone to hear it.

“Mingyu?” Minghao says, already too close to the bed for Mingyu to roll over and pretend she’s not doing what she’s doing.

It’s been more than a decade since anyone came even close to walking in on Mingyu trying to get herself off, and she’s certainly not prepared for it to happen as a senior in college. With her roommate. Who she has a crush on.

Minghao stands staring at her for a dozen long, tense heartbeats, her face going steadily more and more crimson before she whips around on her heel and starts walking the other way without a remark.

Usually, Mingyu would spring off the bed and try to catch her and make sure that she hasn’t seriously messed something up. As much as she wants to do that now, she’s also painfully aware that she’s naked and wet between her legs, thighs starting to shake from the sudden increase in tension.

Besides, it’s not like Minghao knows—

Mingyu slams her eyes shut, sitting up and dragging a pillow against her face, shouting into the soft fabric of it. It would be nice to finish, especially because Minghao turned and walked directly out of the apartment, but it’s hard to get herself back into the proper mood after that.

She shoves her face into the pillow and screams.

**{* * *}**

It isn’t quite true to say that Mingyu is _avoiding_ her, but Minghao can sense that something has changed.

Mingyu is still around— she still slumps against the sink brushing her teeth in the morning, she still tries to distract Minghao from studying, she still babbles at Minghao the whole time she cooks dinner.

But there’s something underneath it all. There are times when Mingyu hesitates or clams up entirely. It feels almost like she’s holding her breath and Minghao isn’t sure why.

“We haven’t gone out in a while,” she says, chewing on the end of a pen and glancing over at Mingyu. It feels like she’s sitting further away than usual but not far enough for Minghao to really be certain about it.

Maybe she’s reading too much into nothing.

“I guess,” Mingyu says, looking over at her with a little hum. It’s just beginning to cool from fall to winter and Mingyu has one of their blankets draped over her lap. She looks down at it rather than meeting Minghao’s eyes, picking at the fuzzy fibers.

Minghao looks at the sketch in front of her for a second, then back at Mingyu. “Do you wanna go to a club or something?”

“You hate clubs,” Mingyu says, a hint of a smile on her face.

She’s chasing half an instinct here— she’s been forcing herself to the center of Mingyu’s attention for so long that there hasn’t been time for her to date around or hook up or whatever it is she likes to do. Minghao doesn’t ask for the details. As vaguely sick as the idea makes her feel, she can put herself to the side and help Mingyu get with someone else for a night.

“I don’t hate them that much,” Minghao says, shaking her head. “It’s been a long time, anyway.”

Mingyu hums, though she doesn’t really look all that convinced.

“I think you need to get laid,” Minghao says, trying to make it sound flippant. She sets her sketchbook to the side, dropping the pen on top of it and picking herself up off the floor. She stretches, arching her back and lifting her arms up over her head.

Mingyu blinks at her, lips slightly parted, and Minghao laughs. “You haven’t like, all semester, right?”

“You haven’t either,” Mingyu shoots back, but there’s no heat to it, not really.

“So I’m offering to help you,” Minghao says, dropping her arms and rolling her eyes. For a moment that seems to stretch on, Mingyu just stares at her, her cheeks growing steadily redder. When she doesn’t say anything, Minghao shrugs and turns to slide behind the screen to the bedroom, pawing gently through the old wardrobe that holds most of her clothes. Mingyu follows after her, sputtering a little.

“W- what do you mean _help?”_ She asks, scratching the back of her neck. Minghao glances back at her and chuckles.

“What do you think I mean?” She asks in return, sorting through her shirts until she eventually finds the velvety maroon tank top she’s looking for. Going to straight clubs is always a weird experience— she refuses to be dressed badly just to avoid attention, but it seems silly to dress up only to have not a single girl who might be even a little interested.

But this time she’s going for Mingyu’s sake, so she figures it’s okay to break out the nicer clubbing clothes.

Mingyu doesn’t answer and Minghao glances back at her with a sigh. “I mean I’m going to be your wingman. You should get dressed.”

She doesn’t say anything right away but she does bark out a little laugh, shaking her head and rubbing the back of her neck. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

It takes Minghao longer than Mingyu to get ready even though she manages to goad Mingyu into putting on makeup and picks out a nicer shirt when she doesn’t like the first one Mingyu puts on.

By the time they walk halfway to the nearest club Mingyu can think of, Minghao is already regretting wearing a light, slightly too-big jacket over her shirt. It hardly offers much in the way of warmth, and even though the way it slips off her shoulder is inviting, it means there are goosebumps crawling up the back of her neck.

Mingyu is definitely warmer, huddled into an old leather jacket and leggings and she looks at Minghao with a laugh and a roll of her eyes. “We should be finding someone for you.”

“Good luck with that,” Minghao says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think any of the girls there are going to be very interested.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Mingyu says, almost too quickly and for a second Minghao hesitates. It’s more than just a tempting offer— the last thing she really wants do with her evening is get dressed up just to walk back home on her own once Mingyu finds a guy to…

But that’s just more of her own selfishness. As much as she’d like to, she can’t get away with keeping Mingyu to herself forever.

“It’s fine,” she says, shooting Mingyu a smile and shrugging the jacket tighter around her shoulders. “I’m helping you out, like I said.”

Mingyu frowns, probably because Minghao decided to wear a skirt and it’s cool enough out that she’s having a hard time keeping herself from shivering.

The good news is that it’s warm as soon as they get inside, dropping both of their jackets off at the front. Minghao puts one hand on Mingyu’s side, holding lightly on to her shirt, letting Mingyu push through the crowd of people ahead of her to get them to the bar. Mingyu isn’t really that much taller than her, but Minghao isn’t above taking advantage of it from time to time.

There aren’t any seats at the bar, which Minghao resigns herself to with a sigh, releasing the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt with a tight smile.

“See anyone you like?” Minghao asks, leaning close to be heard over the pounding music.

“We just got here,” Mingyu says, shaking her head with a laugh. “Don’t you at least want a drink first?”

Minghao hums at that, leaning into Mingyu’s side when someone else presses up to the bar next to her.

“They don’t have wine here,” Mingyu says, tipping her head down, mouth close enough to Minghao’s ear that Minghao can feel the warmth of her breath. One of her hands is on the small of Minghao’s back, fingertips brushing bare skin where the hem of her shirt ends.

Minghao tells herself there’s no space for her to pull away, even though she should. She wants to press in closer— to indulge in the heat of Mingyu’s skin against hers, the casual declaration that they are in some way or another _together._

“That’s why these places suck,” Minghao says, even though coming out was her idea to begin with. Mingyu chuckles, her chest vibrating against Minghao’s side, shaking her head.

“How about a vodka tonic?” Mingyu asks. Minghao takes a second to think but nods, chewing the corner of her lip gently. She’ll have to watch how much she drinks since she won’t have the luxury of Mingyu and her much higher tolerance to make sure she gets home.

Mingyu leans forward, flashing the sharp points of her teeth at the bartender and orders drinks for the both of them, the flashing colored lights catching on her golden skin. She stands up again with the drinks in her hands and hands Minghao hers with a smile.

It’s so tempting to forget about the stupid idea that drove Minghao to take the two of them here, but she can’t keep acting like Mingyu really is interested in her just because she wishes it were true. It’s better for both of them. It doesn’t matter that Minghao wants to be the person with their hands on Mingyu.

“You have to point out guys you like,” Minghao says, nudging her knee against Mingyu’s when she doesn’t say anything. “I can’t tell what your type is.”

“I don’t really have one,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of her neck with a small laugh. Minghao rolls her eyes, frowning and trying to call to mind the image of the last few guys Mingyu has dated. It’s harder than it should be— Minghao knows she’s met at least four different boyfriends in the last 3 years but she can’t really remember any of their faces. She didn’t like any of them to begin with and it was pretty rare for Mingyu to bring any of them around the rest of her friends.

“We really don’t have to, um,” Mingyu starts, shaking her head with a laugh in the middle. “I don’t really need you to throw me at guys or anything.”

“I know,” Minghao says after an overly generous sip of her own drink. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Mingyu says, her hand ghosting over the small of Minghao’s back. It’s such a small, quick gesture that after a moment Minghao isn’t even sure if it was really Mingyu’s hand she felt to begin with. “I don’t want you to go.”

Minghao could reach out and twist her arms around Mingyu’s waist and refuse to let her go. She could close the little pocket of space between them.

Instead, when a guy comes over to introduce himself, Minghao steps further away to let him and does her best to chime in with a smile and talk Mingyu up a little bit.

It’s not exactly difficult, even though Minghao’s heart slams against the cage of her ribs like it want to break free. When Mingyu walks away, a shy smile on her face and the guy’s hand at the dip of her waist, Minghao swallows the rest of her drink and tells herself that’s not hard either.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu isn’t sure how her evening ended up exactly like this— with some guy whose name she’s already forgotten trying to put his hands up her shirt int he middle of a crowd. It’s been hard to invest herself in the idea of getting laid from the start, and Mingyu has the suspicion that Minghao’s sudden enthusiasm for it comes from having walked in on Mingyu trying to get herself off the other day.

But it’s worse knowing that Minghao is just sitting at the bar by herself, downing drinks she only halfway enjoys because she thinks Mingyu needs some guy to take her home and fuck her. So Mingyu doesn’t really feel that bad for excusing herself as gently as possible and weaving her way back to where Minghao is sitting.

In the back of her mind, Mingyu is kind of hoping to make something romantic out of it— like she’s coming back to rescue Minghao from a shitty night of having guys hit on her. And it’s sort of like that but mostly like Minghao looks at her with half a smile, swirling ice around in her glass and Mingyu’s heart does a full cartwheel in her chest.

“Done already?” Minghao asks, lifting her eyebrow in a suggestive slant.

Mingyu laughs, heat creeping up from under the collar of her shirt. “He was boring.”

Minghao hums and doesn’t move from her seat, even when Mingyu crowds into her space to order herself another drink. Mingyu takes the chance and drapes an arm over her shoulders, helping herself to even more of Minghao’s personal space.

“Do you wanna go somewhere else?” Mingyu asks, hoping Minghao actually takes her up on it this time. “You can’t be having very much fun.”

Minghao smiles and this time it looks almost a little guilty. She curls her fingers in Mingyu’s shirt like she’s trying to keep her from getting away.

“The music here sucks,” Minghao says, hauling Mingyu in closer than she really needs to. Mingyu sucks in a shallow breath before she nods, trying to ignore the excited twist of her stomach. Minghao always tends to cling a little extra when she’s been drinking and Mingyu is too quick to go right along with it.

She wraps her hand around one of Minghao’s, squeezing the delicate bones of her knuckles for a moment before helping her down off the stool. Minghao’s footing is steady, meaning Mingyu doesn’t have the excuse she wants to keep holding onto her hand. She drops it reluctantly, giving Minghao a smile.

“We can just go back home,” she says, hoping she doesn’t come off as being totally pathetic. Maybe Minghao will accept her failure at finding a hookup for Mingyu, though she kinda doubts it. The depths of Minghao’s generosity, Mingyu knows, are truly endless.

It makes her wonder if she’s really doing enough in return— maybe she should swallow her selfish desire to keep Minghao and suggest they go hit a gay bar instead. Minghao deserves a good fuck way more than she does, after all.

But Minghao nods, bumping into Mingyu’s side to get her moving. “I thought someone else was supposed to take you home.”

Mingyu rolls her eyes. “I don’t need some random guy to do a bad job at screwing me.”

Minghao laughs, holding onto Mingyu’s side for support and it makes Mingyu’s heart skip a beat. She puts her hand on the small of Minghao’s back to help support her, grinning when Minghao’s head ends up tucked against her shoulder, still shaking with laughter.

“What do you want, then?” Minghao asks, rolling her head to the side to peek up at Mingyu.

Mingyu’s mouth goes dry at the question and like she does too often, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I wouldn’t mind if it was a girl.”

Minghao blinks slowly, still holding onto Mingyu, pressed up close in her space. “Really?”

“Y- yeah,” Mingyu says, wondering if she could’ve picked a worse way to do this. The crowd is still moving around them but they’re trapped in a tight, intimate bubble of space. “I’ve been, um, lately…”

Mingyu trails off, unsure how to finish. Minghao smiles at her, open and kind, leaning up to press her lips to Mingyu’s cheek. The gesture is dry and chaste and as much as Mingyu wants to appreciates Minghao validating her unintentional coming out, all she can think is that she wants more.

“You don’t gotta figure it all out at once,” Minghao says, her lips moving against the skin of Mingyu’s cheek. “Thanks for telling me.”

She pulls back and Mingyu can’t think of a way to more elegantly say that she girl she means _is_ Minghao or at least a way that wouldn’t be entirely mortifying. Especially if Minghao had to go from kissing her to letting her down gently.

So, Mingyu lets Minghao step away from her without saying anything extra. She lets herself be tugged along out of the bar and back toward home, Minghao’s fingers wrapped around her wrist like she’s scared she’s going to somehow lose Mingyu in the crowd.

Mingyu doesn’t mind— doesn’t complain about it. She likes feeling like she’s somehow essential to Minghao, even if it’s only for a moment.

**{* * *}**

It isn’t often that Mingyu has the time to hang around all day and cook giant meals like her mom used to on the weekends. Usually either she’s busy or Minghao is and the recipes she gets from her mom whenever she calls asking are way too much just to feed the two of them, even for the next week.

But there’s a little pocket of time that comes along with the first good snow of winter and Minghao comes with her shopping, drifting aimlessly through the store alongside Mingyu and pretending she doesn’t notice when Mingyu sneaks in things that aren’t on the carefully crafted shopping list for the week.

Maybe it’s silly of her to be so excited— it’s not like she doesn’t regularly cook for the both of them already. But it’s fun to make something big out of something so mundane. And maybe there’s something there… in the mix of food and family and Minghao that makes Mingyu’s chest constrict in a way that she likes.

When they get back from the store, Minghao is tugging Mingyu along by the ends of her scarf, the lightest two bags dangling from the tips of her fingers. Mingyu laughs, the sudden wave of warmth stinging at her cheeks. She wants to set all the bags down and have Minghao in her arms instead.

In the few weeks that have come and gone since Mingyu’s incredibly foolish attempt at laying her feelings on the table, nothing has really changed all that much. Seokmin and Minghao make the occasional joke at her expense but they’re mostly as supportive as Mingyu would’ve expected.

It’s all fine except for the fact that she doesn’t know how to tell Minghao that she’s the person Mingyu is really interested in. At this point, she’s not even sure if she _should_ tell her. Things are good as they are, even if they involve a lot less kissing than Mingyu would like.

But it’s good… it’s good enough, at least. It’s better than gambling everything on the slim chance that Minghao might want something more if it were an option.

Mingyu sets the bags down and untangles the scarf from around her neck once Minghao finally lets go of it, draping it over one of the hooks next to her jacket. Minghao grins at her, her cheeks pink from the cold air breeze outside and a few stray flakes of snow still resting in her dark hair.

“How long is this gonna take?” Minghao asks, hopping up to her usual spot on the counter. She likes hanging around the kitchen while Mingyu cooks, even when she’s doing nothing but making a pest out of herself.

Like now, it seems. She stretches her legs out in front of her, bending at the ankles.

“Probably awhile,” Mingyu admits, sorting through all the bags of food currently spread around their kitchen floor for the things she needs first.

“Should we have gotten snacks too?” Minghao asks, her smile stretching wider when Mingyu looks up and rolls her eyes.

“Do you want me out of your way?” Minghao asks when Mingyu sets a cutting board on the counter next to her hip, chopping vegetables into large chunks with a focused furrow in her brow.

Mingyu thinks it over for a second— how small their kitchen is versus having Minghao there while she works— before shaking her head with a laugh.

“It’s fine like this,” she says. Minghao always gives in and decides to help eventually, anyway.

Mingyu doesn’t mind the audience— she would rather have Minghao close than far away, even in something as small and silly as this.

It doesn’t take very long for Minghao to wiggle off the counter and join Mingyu in preparing food, bumping their hips gently together and shooting her a grin.

“Are you going to send your mom pictures when you’re done?” She asks. They’re standing close enough that Mingyu can feel the warmth of Minghao’s frame even through her own heavy sweater.

“Only if it comes out pretty,” Mingyu says, shaking her head with a little laugh. “If it looks ugly she’ll just scold me.”

Minghao laughs, leaning forward against the counter, her shoulders bouncing up and down. When she leans, Mingyu can see a tiny peek of the back of her neck, just above the hem of her shirt.

Somehow she had it in her head that once she actually told Minghao about being attracted to girls, her crush would get a little bit easier. It hasn’t really changed much of anything, though. She still likes Minghao— she still wants things she knows she isn’t supposed to want.

“If it looks ugly I’ll send her the picture,” Minghao says, grinning. “You can tell her I cooked.”

Mingyu laughs, looks away before she blurts something about how pretty Minghao’s neck is or cuts off one of her fingers because of the distraction.

She’s about to say something— anything— to try and distract herself from the tense knot of emotions in her stomach but Minghao’s phone chirps a ringtone from her pocket. Minghao blinks, setting her own knife down and fishing her phone out. She leans her back against the counter, the quick shadow of a frown on her face before she answers it.

She switches immediately to mandarin, which means it’s probably a call from her parents. Mingyu only catches a few of the words that Minghao has taught her over the last few years or the ones she repeats so often that they’ve stuck in the back of Mingyu’s mind. It’s enough to figure out that she’s talking to her dad, at least.

Minghao’s previous good mood melts away fast. Her smile drops, lips twisting into a frown, a deep furrow between the arches of her eyebrows. Mingyu pauses in what she’s doing as well, reaching out to set a tentative hand on Minghao’s arm; barely more than a brush of her fingertips. Minghao doesn’t even seem to notice it. Whatever she’s saying on the phone is too fast for Mingyu to understand but it’s obvious that she’s upset.

When she shoves away from the counter, still talking rapidly into the phone, Mingyu is left by herself in the kitchen, her hand still extended toward where Minghao was standing. She can hear Minghao shuffling around behind the dressing screen, opening and closing drawers, and has to struggle with the urge to follow her around the apartment like a lost puppy.

Mingyu gives in before Minghao finishes— drifting after her and watching her haphazardly stuffing clothes into a bag. She looks up when Mingyu stops next to the screen and it seems like Minghao sees her for the first time since she answered the phone. She tips the microphone away from her mouth and shakes her head.

“My dad drove into a tree,” she says, her voice like a wire about to snap. “I’m gonna catch the next train out.”

“Are they okay?” Mingyu asks, her fingers wrapping around the edge of the screen. “Isn’t it like two hours?”

Minghao nods her head and Mingyu isn’t sure which question she’s answering. She watches Minghao zip the bag up and turn her attention back to the phone.

She swings the bag on one of her shoulders and breezes past Mingyu, stopping only to step into her shoes and drape her jacket over her shoulder. The door shuts behind her without so much as a glance back at Mingyu.

For a long moment, Mingyu stays in her spot, wondering if it’s okay for her to be sad. Hoping Minghao will come breezing back in and Mingyu can offer to go with her or try to comfort her or ask her if she should still cook…

Minghao doesn’t come back. Mingyu drags herself back into the kitchen with a little sigh, staring at the half-prepped meal set out on the counter.

It isn’t such a big deal but the disappointment still chews at the bottom of Mingyu’s stomach. It robs her of her appetite, even though she finishes cooking and wraps everything up in foil and leaves it to stay warm in the oven.

She ends up sending Minghao two messages, variations on asking if everything is okay. She doesn’t ask if Minghao is coming back, or when.

Minghao doesn’t answer either.

**{* * *}**

To be honest, when she leaves Minghao doesn’t have much of anything in mind. She’s only half hearing Mingyu asking her questions or her dad trying to over explain what happened.

So, after an overly long train ride and an underwhelming visit to the hospital only to find out that the only real injury is a twisted wrist Minghao feels foolish and exhausted.

She could take a cab to her parent’s apartment and pass out, but she feels bad for leaving Mingyu so suddenly and staying overnight means missing class tomorrow.

 **(mingyu:)** _is everything alright? I’m worried!!_

It’s too late to expect a response— Minghao is slumped over in the uncomfortable plastic seat on the train, pushing her fingers through her overgrown bangs and wishing she’d grabbed a heavier coat for the ride back.

She finds herself texting Mingyu anyway.

 **(minghao:)** _I’m coming home ___

__Minghao lays her phone on her thighs, tilting her head back with a groan, letting her head bump against the window for a moment._ _

__It’s late now, though the train is quiet it’s hard for Minghao to fall asleep with the whole train rattling and swaying around her. She curls in on herself a little further, wishing Mingyu were awake to respond._ _

__Maybe she should have given Mingyu the chance to come with her. In all the scramble and panic of trying to get out of the door with her dad still on the phone, Minghao didn’t even think about how it might be nice to have Mingyu with her now. She could lean on her shoulder and fall asleep against something solid._ _

__Now, in the shallow yellow light of the train, the thought just makes Minghao scowl at herself. It’s better not to have dragged Mingyu along, even if now she’s bored and lonely and drained. It’s hard enough to remember that Mingyu doesn’t belong to her— at least not like that— on a normal day._ _

__Minghao is starting to wonder if she can cope with another year, another six months, another week being so uselessly head over heels when it comes to Mingyu. She’s foolish for having let it happen in the first place and worse for playing into it for so long. By now, she’s plunged too deep into this to be able to make her way out._ _

__All that’s left is loving Mingyu until she drowns from it._ _

__When Minghao finally drags herself through the door of the apartment, it’s nearly too late to still be called _night_ at all but the residual adrenaline has Minghao still feeling uncomfortably alert. The lights are out, only a few soft fingers from the streetlights outside making their way in the room._ _

__It’s enough, however, for Minghao to see Mingyu asleep on the couch, her long limbs curled at uncomfortable angles to fit. She steps out of her shoes, draping her coat on the hook and setting her poorly packed bag down on the floor to be dealt with later._ _

__Mingyu groans, probably from the rush of cold air from the hall outside or the sound of Minghao shuffling around. She sits up slowly, her shoulders slouched inward, massaging the back of her neck where she no doubt has a cramp._ _

__“Welcome home,” Mingyu say, her voice fuzzy._ _

__“Go to sleep,” Minghao says, shaking her head. As hard as she tries not to smile, she fails._ _

__“Your food is in the oven,” Mingyu says. In spite of Minghao’s command, she drags herself upright, pushing hair away from her face. Her jaw stretches out in a yawn. “Is your family okay?”_ _

__Minghao nods, dropping her hand when she realizes that she’s reaching out like she wants to steady Mingyu on her feet. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”_ _

__“It is tomorrow,” Mingyu says, a sleepy smile making its way across her cheeks. She’s much less shy about reaching out— shuffling forward until she can drape her arms around Minghao’s shoulders, tugging her into a loose embrace. Minghao’s arm loops around her waist in return, if only to make sure Mingyu doesn’t fall over without her help. Mingyu’s cheek rests against her head, the beat of her heart slow and steady._ _

__“Everything’s fine,” Minghao says, her voice slightly muffled against Mingyu’s shoulder._ _

__“You should eat,” Mingyu says, peeling herself away and wobbling her way over to the oven instead of listening once again. Minghao sighs, though she can’t really invest herself too much in being put out with Mingyu. It’s hard to be annoyed with her for taking the time to care._ _

__She sets the plate on the counter, giving Minghao a plaintiff look when she realizes that she hasn’t moved from her spot in the doorway._ _

__“Are you not hungry?” Mingyu asks, hovering with her hands tucked nervously in front of her._ _

__There’s a funny cotton feeling in the back of Minghao’s mouth like she’s about to start crying. It’s probably just from being stressed— being tired— the leftover adrenaline but whatever it is, Minghao is having a hard time swallowing the feeling down again once she notices it. She presses her lips together in a hard line, trying to keep them from wobbling._ _

__Mingyu isn’t helping; standing in the kitchen with her eyes half-open and a worried look on her face._ _

__“Minghao?” She asks, stepping back from the counter. “What’s wrong?”_ _

__Even though Minghao is pretty sure she isn’t making a face, she’s not surprised that Mingyu can see through her anyway._ _

__“I’m just tired,” Minghao says, shaking her head and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes until her vision goes white. “I just wanna go to bed.”_ _

__“Okay,” Mingyu says, sounding something like she’s trying to soothe an injured animal. “We can go to sleep.”_ _

__She sticks the food in the fridge and Minghao swallows hard twice before dragging herself to the bedroom, shedding clothes in an uneven trail behind her to be picked up in the morning._ _

__It’s not very long before Mingyu is crawling under the sheets next to her, her footsteps loud in the otherwise quiet apartment, the bed groaning slightly under her weight._ _

__Tired as she is, every thought in Minghao’s head feels like it’s had the volume turned up. She squeezes her eyes shut, rolling over and trying vainly to force herself to sleep._ _

__She can tell from the sound of her breathing that Mingyu isn’t asleep yet either— she’s used to the low, quiet rhythm of it after all these months._ _

__“Hey,” Mingyu says, after listening to Minghao toss and turn for who knows how long. “Come here.”_ _

__Mingyu’s arms twisting around her waist and pulling her in close is such a surprise that it makes Minghao jump. Mingyu starts to pull back and Minghao reaches an arm under the blankets, tugging Mingyu in closer. She rolls over once again— this time so she’s facing Mingyu, shoving her face into the crook of Mingyu’s neck._ _

__Before she can second guess herself for being so close, Mingyu hums out a low, agreeable sound, rubbing one hand up and down Minghao’s back slowly._ _

__Minghao expects her to let go after a few seconds but Mingyu doesn’t— she settles in further, her breath blowing over the top of Minghao’s head, soft and even. She starts to let go of tension she didn’t even realize she was holding onto._ _

__When she finally drops off to sleep, Mingyu’s arms are still around her._ _


	4. winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was just thinking…” Minghao starts then pauses, shaking her head. She doesn’t quite laugh, but there’s a small, private smile on her face. “I like it here. This apartment.”
> 
> “I like it too,” Mingyu says, her thumb tracing the delicate veins of Minghao’s wrist like she’s trying to map her way to Minghao’s heart.

And with sweet oil  
costly  
you anointed yourself  
  
and on a soft bed  
Delicate  
you would let loose your longing

They’ve entered the season of Minghao never quite feeling warm all the way again. She’s not good with cold and it isn’t helped that she refuses to let the weather entirely dictate the way she dresses.

Which is why she’s curling one of Mingyu’s sweaters around her shoulders a little more tightly, pretending she doesn’t notice the way Seokmin is grinning at her.

“What now?” Minghao asks like she doesn’t already know the direction this is headed in. Seokmin laughs, her smile stretching wider, making her nose wrinkle at the corners.

“Mingyu’s shirt looks nice on you,” Seokmin says, coffee hovering between the table and her mouth. “Does she know you took it?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Minghao says, glad her hair covers the burning tips of her ears. It’s too cold to have it up all the time and the layers have grown long on their own, covering the still close shave at the sides of her head. “It ended up in my drawer.”

“And you didn’t know that it’s Mingyu’s?” Seokmin says, chuckling. “It’s her favorite.”

Minghao tugs at the loose neck of the crimson sweater, letting the sleeve gather around her fingers. She frowns, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. It _did_ find its way into her drawers somehow, but Minghao knew what it was. Mingyu wears it so often that it has the slight imprint of the perfume she wears.

“I don’t think she’ll care,” Minghao says, shaking her head. “It’s warm.”

“Are you still pretending?” Seokmin says, her voice tipping between curious and teasing.

“I dunno what you mean,” Minghao says, pulling the neckline up over her nose in a vain effort to hide.

Really, she’s trying to cover the fact that in spite of everything, her face burns. She can’t help thinking of the other morning when she woke up with Mingyu’s arms still around her. Minghao had her face buried in the crook of Mingyu’s neck like an animal— like a lover…

“There’s nothing going on,” she says finally, dropping the sweater and shaking her head. It’s unfortunately honest.

“Why not?” Seokmin asks, puffing her cheeks out. Minghao wishes it could be as easy as it is in her head.

“Just because Mingyu said she’s into girls doesn’t mean she means me,” Minghao says, shaking her head. She’s still coping with that fact herself. It’s somehow no better knowing that the two of them _could_ be something if that’s what Mingyu wanted rather than having no hope at all.

Seokmin tips her head back between her shoulders and groans. “Have you asked her about that?”

“Asked her what?” Minghao asks, frowning straight back. “Should I wake her up in the morning and say ‘hey have you ever thought about letting me fuck you?’” Minghao snorts, shaking her head. “I don’t think it’ll go over too well.”

“You could make it more romantic than that,” Seokmin says. Minghao isn’t sure if she’s being made the butt of a joke or not. “Buy her a bottle of wine and ask her for real.”

Minghao’s stomach lurches at the prospect— dread getting mixed up with excitement.

She has too many reasons why she can’t; Mingyu will only turn her down or feel burdened by the confession, Minghao’s feelings are only from the situation they find themselves in. Even if Mingyu wants to it’s not worth it with their futures so quickly approaching.

“I’m not gonna wine and dine Mingyu,” Minghao says. The whole protest is a wasted effort and Seokmin only rolls her eyes.

“Then do some tequila shots and try it the other way,” Seokmin says, laughing when Minghao wrinkles her nose in distaste at the suggestion. “What do you wanna do about it?”

“Nothing,” Minghao says, pushing her fingers back through her bangs, tossing them into messy disarray. She takes a second to flick them properly back into place. Seokmin tilts her head, trying to slip back into Minghao’s vision when her eyes dart around in avoidance. “I’m not gonna do anything about it.”

Seokmin’s expression hovers for a second before it settles back on sadness. Minghao is overly familiar with this look on Seokmin’s face— the secondhand sadness she pulls out when she thinks Minghao is acting too closed off toward her own feelings.

“You can’t do nothing,” Seokmin says, sticking her lower lip out. “You two make each other happy.”

Minghao hasn’t asked herself if this situation she’s in with Mingyu actually makes her happy or not. Maybe because she’s scared that the answer will be _yes._ The misery of Mingyu’s uncertain heart is still feeble compared to how much she enjoys the rest of it— all the breathless tenderness that Mingyu has brought into her life without trying.

Or maybe it’s the other half that she’s scared to think about. She’s never asked if she makes Mingyu happy.

She thinks of the other morning— the way when Mingyu woke up to find their bodies still tangled together she didn’t startle or yank herself away. She settled back into the sheets, eyes puffy and half-open. Mingyu asked if she slept well, skimming the tips of her fingers over Minghao’s bare shoulder.

Mingyu, arms around her like she wanted Minghao to stay. Minghao wanted Mingyu to stay, too.

That’s what scares her most of all.

**{* * *}**

When the snow starts to pile up on the sidewalk outside, Mingyu makes a joke about their 5th-floor window being covered.

Two days later and trapped inside, she’s starting to worry that maybe she was right. When she leans on her toes, staring out the window, hands pressed to the cold glass, it looks like she could jump and land safely in the thick layer of snow covering the sidewalk and the street equally.

Minghao is lounging on the floor, her back against the couch, a steaming mug full of coffee cupped between her hands, watching Mingyu stand in front of the mirror with all the excitement of childhood.

“Are you just happy classes are canceled?” Minghao asks, leaning her head to the side with a smile.

“I like when it snows,” Mingyu says, turning away from the window with a smile. There’s a frosted cloud left on the glass from her breath and she swipes her fingers through it, leaving a condensed slash on the glass.

Minghao laughs and Mingyu sits down next to her, stretching her legs out.

“You like when it’s below freezing and wet,” Minghao says, shaking her head as if she can’t believe it.

“We should go for a walk later,” Mingyu says, bumping her shoulder against Minghao’s. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not freezing to death for you,” Minghao says, shoving her elbow at Mingyu’s ribs. Mingyu laughs, listing to the side as if she’s hurt, gripping at her ribcage.

Mingyu sprawls out on the floor, spreading her arms out at her sides, rolling her head to the side to look up at Minghao.

“Not even for a little while?” Mingyu asks, sticking her lower lip out.

“No,” Minghao says, laughing still. “Not even for a little while.”

“I figured you’d wanna take some pictures,” Mingyu says, looking over out the window again. Minghao rolls her eyes and reaches out to ruffle Mingyu’s hair with a laugh.

“You’re not gonna trick me into going outside,” Minghao says, flicking the tip of Mingyu’s nose gently. “We can stay here and finish off the last of that bottle of wine.”

Mingyu smiles at that, her limbs still splayed out in every direction. Short of spending a few hours in the evening getting drunk with Mingyu’s help, Minghao can still think of plenty that she has to do already. The list won’t get any shorter if she just sits around on the floor and drinks coffee, either. She sighs, setting the warm mug on the table and dragging herself up to her feet.

She’s not really surprised when Mingyu reaches out and snags a hand gently around her ankle and it only makes her trip a little, hopping half a step to compensate for the change in her gait. Mingyu looks up at her with a grin.

“Don’t leave me,” she says, drawing her voice out long and pathetic. Minghao rolls her eyes, shaking her leg free of Mingyu’s grasp.

“I have work to do,” Minghao says. She pauses, holding a hand out to help Mingyu up. “You do too.”

Mingyu takes it but instead of letting Minghao pull her to her feet, she hauls Minghao in the other direction. Minghao loses her balance and ends up on the floor next to Mingyu, barely managing not to smash her knee into the floor. Mingyu laughs, her hand going from Minghao’s wrist to her waist, pulling her in. Minghao, still not really having caught herself, gets pulled along until she’s trapped on the floor next to Mingyu, arms pinned at her sides by Mingyu holding onto her.

“Hey,” Mingyu says after a moment, grinning against the side of Minghao’s neck.

“You’re such a pain,” Minghao grumbles, shaking her head, trying to wiggle her way free. Mingyu grips on tighter, refusing to let go of her, laughing the whole time.

“You should take the day off!” Mingyu says, whining still. “Enjoy it.”

Minghao stops her vain struggling to look over at Mingyu with a sigh. “I don’t like being behind.”

“You won’t be,” Mingyu says, though she loosens her grasp anyway. “I just think you need a break. You stress too much.”

Minghao has to bite down on her tongue to keep herself from snapping that Mingyu doesn’t stress _enough_. It’s not fair or true, not really. Mingyu works just as hard and worries just as much, she’s just found other ways of letting it show.

This is one of them. Minghao flops back against the floor with a sigh, Mingyu still holding onto her.

It’s becoming horribly familiar— since the first time she asked, in a desperate fit to even sleep at all, she’s woken up several times with Mingyu’s arms around her, or her face pressed into the back of Mingyu’s shoulder, or once just their hands tangled together like they were both reaching out, seeking comfort in their sleep.

Somehow, Minghao managed to cross one of the last remaining lines in their friendship and now she doesn’t know how to go back to things as they were. She’s worried that there is no way back. Maybe it’s impossible to reclaim the pieces of her heart that she’s let Mingyu have up to here.

Minghao tilts her face toward the ceiling and shuts her eyes for a moment.

“Have you started applying for jobs yet?” She asks as much a reminder to herself as to Mingyu. This won’t last— there’s no way it can. The future is lurking on the other side of the door to their apartment, waiting to sweep them both up and pull them apart in different directions.

“No,” Mingyu says, her voice quieter than before. Maybe the question surprises her, maybe it doesn’t. Minghao can’t make herself look Mingyu in the face and she can’t tell from the single word alone. “Have you?”

“No,” Minghao says, curling her fingers into a loose fist.

“We can wait a little longer,” Mingyu says, her hand rubbing up and down Minghao’s ribs.

Minghao should pull away. She should get off the floor and go do homework. She shouldn’t let Mingyu sink further under her skin.

“Until when?” She says, looking at Mingyu finally. There’s no conscious choice in her mind to comb her fingers through Mingyu’s hair but she does it anyway, coaxing her light bangs away from her forehead. Mingyu’s brow furrows and she leans forward into the contact.

“Spring,” Mingyu says, lost and hopeful all at once. “Before we have to make our minds up on the lease.”

Minghao thinks she’s had enough with the two of them feeling lost. There are only a few cautious inches between them and it would be so easy to close the distance and press her mouth to Mingyu’s— to feel found, for once.

“Okay,” she says, sitting up finally. Mingyu lets go of her this time without complaint.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu isn’t used to waking up alone anymore.

Her schedule aligns pretty close with Minghao and between the two of them, Mingyu is definitely the morning person. The last time she woke up with no one next to her was when Minghao had a cold and refused to sleep in the same bed out of the fear that Mingyu would get sick too.

The concern was wasted— they live on top of each other and anything Minghao came down with Mingyu was doomed to get as well and it resulted in two or three lonely mornings when Mingyu pulled herself out of bed well before her alarm started ringing to check on Minghao and brew more tea for her.

But this time, Mingyu wakes up on her own and isn’t even sure why. Instinctively, she reaches out to the other side of the bed— maybe Minghao just got up for water or to use the bathroom— but her pillow is cold and the blanket has been pulled neatly back into place, not left open for Minghao to quickly slide back in.

Mingyu frowns and blindly flails an arm around until she finds her glasses, sliding them on and dragging herself out of bed. The old floor is cold beneath her feet and the rest of the apartment is cool and dark.

Minghao is curled up on the couch, a thin blanket wrapped around her, the wan light from the street outside just enough to illuminate her silhouette. Mingyu hesitates, watching Minghao’s chest shift with her breathing, wondering if she’s asleep.

“Why are you staring at me?” Minghao asks after a minute, tilting her head to look at Mingyu as well.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Mingyu asks in return. She crosses the room, squatting down in front of the couch, close enough to make out Minghao’s face in spite of the heavy shadows in the room.

Minghao presses her lips together in a flat line and doesn’t answer.

“Come back to bed,” Mingyu says instead, trying to coax one of Minghao’s hands free from under the blanket. There’s no way she’s warm enough— in the winter Minghao is always clingy, greedy for body heat and trying to steal it from everyone around her. Mingyu is her favorite victim because she runs warm and is easy to boss around.

She can’t count the number of times she’s woken up with Minghao’s icy fingers tucked chastely under the hem of her shirt, pressing into her skin.

Minghao refuses to be drawn out, at least for the moment, shrugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she says, finally. Mingyu assumes she means she’s fine on the couch, or maybe fine in general, but she just settles into her spot on the floor a little more comfortably.

She’s not sure what time it is— late enough that the shadows are rich and deep in every corner of the room.

When Mingyu doesn’t take her answer and go back to bed, Minghao scowls, hunching her head between her shoulders like she just wants to disappear under the blanket.

“You gotta be freezing,” Mingyu says, frowning a little more. “C’mon.”

“Can’t sleep,” Minghao says, blowing out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t wanna wake you up too.”

“Well, I’m up now,” Mingyu says, smiling at her. “What’s wrong?”

Minghao opens her mouth to answer, then hesitates and shuts it again. She lets one arm drape over the side of the couch, the tips of her fingers dangling below the hem of the blanket. Mingyu takes her hand, rubbing Minghao’s fingers between her palms to try and encourage some heat back into them.

Mingyu is expecting the way Minghao scowls at her, reluctant to answer. She’s never really been a fan of putting her feelings into words and in truth, Mingyu would be just as happy to pull Minghao back to their bed without hearing an answer at all. She finds a way to explain eventually, even when it’s roundabout and slow. Mingyu doesn’t mind being patient.

“It’s just stress,” Minghao says finally, though she seems like she isn’t really satisfied by her own answer. “It’ll go away.”

Mingyu nods gently, realizing she’s still holding onto Minghao’s hand. It’s probably been too long to seem normal but she doesn’t want to draw more attention to it by letting go either. Minghao hasn’t pulled her hand away either— her fingers gently trapped between Mingyu’s larger hands, curled slightly like she’s waiting to lace their fingers together.

“Do you want…” Mingyu starts then trails off, the back of her neck burning. She’s not sure she should be so regularly offering to hold Minghao in her sleep.

Minghao blinks curiously at her, eyes bright in the darkness of the room. She’s waiting on Mingyu to finish her thought and Mingyu can’t come up with anything other than the desire to feel Minghao relax into her arms, listening to her breathing smooth out as she drops off to sleep.

“Some tea?” Mingyu finally says, scrambling for anything that isn’t just the equal of letting her heart crawl out of her mouth.

“Nah,” Minghao says, a distant smile on her face. “You can go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

Mingyu shakes her head and gives Minghao’s hand a tiny squeeze. “You’ll be all cramped if you sleep out here.”

It’s stupid, but the idea of going back to bed without Minghao seems unbearably lonely.

“I was just thinking…” Minghao starts then pauses, shaking her head. She doesn’t quite laugh, but there’s a small, private smile on her face. “I like it here. This apartment.”

“I like it too,” Mingyu says, her thumb tracing the delicate veins of Minghao’s wrist like she’s trying to map her way to Minghao’s heart.

They haven’t yet talked about the future— if they’ll sign the same lease they have now for another year or if they’re going to part ways. Mingyu doesn’t want to broach the subject now, either. There’s still time and she would rather let herself enjoy things as they are than live with an ax at the back of her neck.

Minghao has never called their apartment _home_ but…

She sits up, pulling her hand free from Mingyu’s grasp gently, shaking her head. “Let's go back to bed.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, quick to agree. She’s tired and Minghao must be tired too. Minghao stands up, ruffling her fingers through Mingyu’s hair before the climbs to her feet as well.

She follows Mingyu back to bed, curling up on her own side under the covers. Mingyu bites the corner of her lip, wondering if she should reach out and offer—

“It’s really cold,” Minghao says, her voice brittle and soft. She wiggles her way closer until her head is tucked under Mingyu’s chin. “Your feet are freezing.”

Mingyu must forget to breathe because Minghao hesitates, looking up at her. “This okay?”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says, shaking her head. She drapes an arm carefully around the dip of Minghao’s waist.

Minghao shuts her eyes and settles in but for a long time, the both of them lay there— awake and quiet.

**{* * *}**

It’s not that Mingyu really expects that Minghao is never going to go do things on her own… they spend plenty of time apart and Minghao has her own friends and her own interests and Mingyu doesn’t usually feel so left out by that.

It’s not even that Mingyu expects Minghao to never _date_ , even though it feels like they’ve spent so long already absorbed in each other that it is a little bit of a surprise.

But Minghao does go out— on a date with a pretty girl that Jun set up for her and Mingyu is left by herself, wondering how that might be going for her.

She barely lasts 45 minutes after Minghao leaves before she’s barging her way into Seokmin and Soonyoung’s shared apartment with two bottles of wine and what she hopes isn’t a desperate, sad look in her eyes.

Really, it doesn’t matter. The both of them already know how pathetically in over her head Mingyu is. She’s just waiting for the day that Minghao announces she’s decided to take a job halfway across the globe to finally snap out… whatever this is.

Love, maybe, or something too close for Mingyu to be able to tell the difference.

Mingyu slumps over Seokmin’s plastic topped kitchen table, her cheek pressed into the cold surface, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Minghao’s gonna leave,” she says, mumbling the words out. She’s had at least one of the bottles of wine all to herself. Seokmin and Soonyoung were planning on splitting the other before Soonyoung wandered off… somewhere. Mingyu can’t remember anymore.

Seokmin sighs, reaching across the table to pat Mingyu’s head.

“She’s not leaving,” Seokmin says, rolling her eyes. “She’s on a blind date. She’s probably having a shitty time.”

“Not tonight,” Mingyu says, pulling herself upright with a groan. “Later. Soon.”

Seokmin blinks at her and Mingyu furrows her brow, trying intently to string her words together in an order that makes sense. “I’m scared she’s gonna go away.”

“Did she say that?” Seokmin says, leaning forward now, her features all sharpening into concern.

Mingyu shakes her head, then pauses before shaking it again. “She didn’t say it… I don’t think she wants to stay.”

Seokmin sighs, her fingers working out the knots in Mingyu’s short hair. “You two still haven’t learned to talk to each other.”

“We talk plenty,” Mingyu says, slumping forward again, letting her misery weigh heavier on her. “We talk all the time.”

“Not for real,” Seokmin says, shaking her head. “Not about the things that matter.”

Maybe she’s right. Mingyu doesn’t know how to say all the things to Minghao that she wants to say. But maybe hoping she’ll pick up on signals or put the pieces together isn’t good enough.

Mingyu pushes her face into her palms and focuses hard for a moment on swallowing the urge to cry. It’s hardly embarrassing to cry in front of Seokmin, of all people, but Mingyu knows once she starts it’ll be impossible for her to stop.

Seokmin shifts closer, rubbing her hand gently up and down Mingyu’s back, mumbling something soothing at the same pace as her hand. It helps a little. Mingyu squeezes her eyes shut tighter before shaking her head and sitting up.

“I don’t know what to tell her,” Mingyu says finally, heaving out a heavy breath.

“That you like her, to start with,” Seokmin says, rolling her eyes just a little. “Like I told you to months ago.”

Mingyu frowns, opening her mouth to argue only to close it again. She’s quickly running short of options that aren’t just coming clean to Minghao, no matter what the results are. She doesn’t raise her fear of ruining the friendship she has with Minghao already— if anyone knows plenty about that, it’s Seokmin.

Seokmin smiles, her face gentle, patting Mingyu’s hand. “You can’t be scared of it forever.”

This is true. Mingyu doesn’t have that much time left before she’ll lose her chance completely.

For a moment, she considers digging her phone out of her pocket and trying to call Minghao— considers spilling her guts over the phone and praying that Minghao doesn’t just tell her not to come home tonight in return.

Then, rather than do any of that, Mingyu grabs the bottle of wine still sitting out on the table and pours herself another glass.

**{* * *}**

Minghao has never been happier to get a phone call than the one that lets her escape the date Jun set her up on, even if it’s just for a minute or two. She gently excuses herself, stepping around the corner, hovering just out of the way of the swinging kitchen doors.

“Seokmin I could kiss you,” she says, grinning a little bit.

It’s not the worst date she’s ever been on— just boring and endless.

“You’re gonna make me blush,” Seokmin says, almost like it’s a reflex. She sounds a little distant and Minghao can hear Soonyoung talking in the background, too fast for her to really pick anything specific out. “But you might change your mind pretty fast.”

“Why?” Minghao asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mingyu is um, really drunk,” she says, her laughter turning nervous. “And she wants you to take her home.”

“Me?” Minghao asks though she’s not truly that surprised. She probably owes Mingyu after all the times Mingyu has made sure she gets home and tucked safely into bed, even before they started living together.

“She’s kinda upset,” Seokmin says, a little quieter. “I could get her in a cab but she would feel better…”

“It’s fine,” Minghao says, ignoring the way her chest feels like it’s trying to constrict around her ribs. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Do you want me to talk to her?”

Seokmin hums and Minghao holds on while the phone rattles its way from her hand to Mingyu’s.

“I told Seokmin not to call you,” Mingyu says, her words sliding together a little. Minghao can’t help her smile.

“It’s okay,” Minghao says, softer than when she was talking with Seokmin. “I’m gonna come over there and get you.”

“You’re on a date,” Mingyu says, whining a little. “Don’t leave!”

Minghao glances back at the table where her date is sitting, even though her mind is already made up. There’s no contest, at least not for her, between a perfect stranger and Mingyu.

“Don’t worry about that,” Minghao says, pushing away from the wall “Drink some water, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Minghao cuts her date short with a quick explanation about how her roommate sick. She pays for their meals and leaves to call a cab to Seokmin’s, the light mix of snow and rain that comes along with the first touch of spring trying to slide down the collar of her jacket.

The cab is cold and smells like cigarettes and the whole time Minghao can’t pull her eyes off her phone. She feels a little silly for it— Mingyu is drunk, not dying.

She’s not even certain what message she’s hoping to get.

She huddles herself into the rickety elevator up to Seokmin’s apartment, jabbing at the button with a half-frozen finger and listening to the old engine rattle as it drags its way up three floors. Seokmin and Soonyoung never lock their door really, especially when they’re home and Minghao lets herself in without knocking.

Mingyu is curled up as small as possible with her long limbs, arms wrapped around her knees, cheek resting on top of them, sitting a few feet away from the couch. She looks up when Minghao walks in, her expression lifting for a second before it crumbles into a frown again.

“I ruined your date,” she says, shaking her head and staring sadly up at Minghao.

“My date sucked,” Minghao says, holding both hands out in front of her for Mingyu to grab. Mingyu does, pulling herself slowly up to her feet, swaying toward Minghao for support. Minghao puts a hand on her side, making sure Mingyu isn’t going to knock the both of them over. “I’ll take you home.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, draping her arm over Minghao’s shoulders. She turns her face to the side, hiding against Minghao’s shoulder. Minghao adjusts her grasp on Mingyu’s waist, hoping the way her face heats up is covered by the flush on her cheeks from the cold. She looks over at Seokmin, lingering in the kitchen doorway and making no effort at all to look like she isn’t watching them and smiles slightly.

“Thanks,” she says, dragging Mingyu forward as she talks. Seokmin grins, shooting Minghao a thumbs up and a wink.

It’s not the easiest thing in the world— pulling Mingyu into the elevator and then outside while making sure she doesn’t lose her balance and knock them both over. It’s even harder to do in heels, but Minghao manages somehow. She bundles Mingyu into a cab, sliding in after her, her hand lingering on Mingyu’s knee for a second after she settles in.

She goes to pull it back only to find one of Mingyu’s larger hands covering her own.

“I’m really sorry,” Mingyu says, slurred and miserable. She has her head ducked forward like she’s still trying to hide and Minghao’s chest feels funny and tight.

“It’s fine,” Minghao says. When Mingyu doesn’t answer, Minghao pulls her hand free only to scratch her nails along the back of Mingyu’s skull. “You did me a favor. I wasn’t having fun anyway.”

Even like this— cold and cramped and worried— Minghao would always rather be with Mingyu than anyone else.

It doesn’t take very long for the cab to pull up outside their building, meaning Minghao is left with the task of pulling Mingyu out onto the sidewalk and making sure neither of them slips. Mingyu pitches forward, her arms wrapping around Minghao’s shoulders and pulling her in close. Minghao isn’t sure if she means it as a hug or if she’s just trying not to fall over but she wraps her arms around Mingyu in return anyway, rubbing up and down the small of her back.

“C’mon,” she says gently after a moment, her face pressed into Mingyu’s shoulder. “We’re gonna freeze if we stay out here.”

Mingyu lets herself be dragged up to their apartment, her movements still loose and liquid, refusing to let go of Minghao all the way.

“Sit,” she says, laughing when Mingyu drops to sit on the couch like a well-trained puppy. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, her voice wobbling slightly.

By the time Minghao has a glass filled up for her, Mingyu is curled up small once again, glaring at a whorl of wood on the floor.

“What’s up?” Minghao says, setting the glass down within Mingyu’s reach.

Mingyu shakes her head, sniffles, curls in tighter on herself.

“Seokmin said you were upset.”

“I’m not,” Mingyu says. She sounds like she’s crying.

“Mingyu,” Minghao says, sliding her hand over Mingyu’s cheek, trying to get her to look up. “Tell me what’s up.”

Mingyu isn’t quite crying— there are tears gathered in her eyes but not yet shed. “I want you to kiss me again.”

“I never…” Minghao starts. Except she did— drunk like Mingyu is now, curled up in bed, holding Mingyu’s face and pressing their lips together. She told herself it was just a dream after.

Mingyu shakes her head, wrapping her fingers around Minghao’s wrist before she can start to pull away.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Mingyu says, her grip tight enough to keep Minghao in place. “I like it like this. I like the tub and the kitchen and only having one bed. I like everything.”

“Oh,” Minghao says, all her breath rushing out on that single word. “We can talk about it in the morning, okay? I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

Mingyu shakes her head. She lets go of Minghao’s arm only to wrap both arms around her waist. She pulls Minghao in until she’s standing between Mingyu’s knees, with Mingyu’s face hidden against her stomach.

“I like you,” Mingyu says, muffled. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

Minghao pushes her fingers through Mingyu’s hair and bites the inside of her cheek until her mouth tastes metallic.

What is there to say? That she wants to stay? That she loves Mingyu too? She wants to. She does. But it feels cruel, too. She couldn’t stand herself if she kissed Mingyu now— a promise she might not be able to keep. She thinks maybe she didn’t need Mingyu to say it; what explains the last year except love?

Mingyu doesn’t ask her to answer but doesn’t let go of her, either. So, Minghao stays because she said she would. She pets Mingyu’s hair until she stops sniffling and then gently tilts her head back.

“Do you wanna go to bed?” She asks. There’s no cure for the rest of the night. If it hurts her now or later, Minghao still owes Mingyu the best she can give, even if it isn’t enough for either of them. Mingyu nods slowly, pulling her arms back to wipe her palms under her eyes.

Minghao does kiss her, but not her mouth. She puts her lips to Mingyu’s forehead and draws her gently up off of the couch and to their bed.

Mingyu doesn’t curl close to her and Minghao doesn’t ask her to. But one of Mingyu’s hands ends up laying on top of the heavy blankets and when Minghao ends up laying awake long after Mingyu falls asleep, she laces her fingers through Mingyu’s— testing how their palms fit together.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu wakes up only to immediately wish she hadn’t. There’s a dim throbbing in her head and she managed to kick most of the blankets off, meaning she’s cold as well.

Minghao is there, blearily half awake, her fingers curled around Mingyu’s. She’s not sure at what point they started holding hands and she’s reluctant to pull away.

That is, until she accesses the dim, blurry memory of shoving her face against Minghao’s stomach and saying _I love you. I’m sorry._ She doesn’t remember Minghao’s answer— or if Minghao said anything at all before pouring Mingyu into bed.

Mingyu rolls to the side and shover her face into the pillow, muffling a groan into the soft fabric.

“It’s too early to be up,” Minghao says, her voice a little raspy from sleep. She reaches out, sliding her hand over the small of Mingyu’s back. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Were you drunk last night or was it just me?” Mingyu says, turning to face Minghao.

She pauses for a long moment, pressing her lips together in a line. “Just you.”

“So you remember…” Mingyu starts, trailing off when Minghao nods slowly.

Mingyu sits up, putting her face in her hands and groaning again. This time less from the headache and more from the latent humiliation. She can dimly recall Seokmin trying to coach her into spilling her guts last night before Minghao showed up to drag her home. Apparently, she decided to go for it. With predictable results.

“I’m gonna… shower. Or something,” Mingyu says, laughing nervously. She drops her hands and does her best to avoid looking over at Minghao, sliding her way out from under the blankets.

“Can we—” Minghao starts, cutting herself off with a frustrated noise. “I told you we could talk about it in the morning.”

Mingyu stops, one leg stretched out from under the blankets. She’s surprised by Minghao volunteering to talk about this at all— it would be just as easy to pretend she didn’t say that at all, or to rely on Mingyu not remembering any of this.

“If you want to,” Mingyu says, sitting back down on the bed, frowning. “We don’t… we don’t have to.”

Maybe she would just like to avoid Minghao saying no to her face. But Minghao reaches a hand out and Mingyu takes it anyway, letting Minghao squeeze her hand and pull her back into the bed.

“I didn’t mean to make things weird,” Mingyu says, shaking her head with a frown. “I just… I wanted to tell you.”

For a moment, Minghao’s controlled expression breaks open into a hurt that Mingyu can’t mistake or ignore. It closes off again just as quickly, hiding whatever it is Minghao doesn’t want her to see. Maybe it’s unfair, considering the way Mingyu’s drunken mind jumped ahead, but it still stings. It’s not like she didn’t anticipate being eventually rejected but her head is still pounding and Mingyu would rather crawl under the bed than listen to Minghao tell her no.

“We only have a few months left,” Minghao says after a long, quiet moment passes. “It wouldn’t… it wouldn’t make sense to start something now.”

It’s not really the _no_ that Mingyu was expecting. Minghao is looking down at where the blanket is gathered in her lap and Mingyu wants to wrap every limb around her and keep the dismal real world from intruding on the life they’ve only just begun to put together.

“I want to anyway,” Mingyu says. She’s always been too honest with her heart— too optimistic. “We still have some time before the lease… can’t we just…”

Minghao shakes her head and Mingyu deflates where she’s sitting.

She has no idea where either of them might end up a few months from now. She’s not sure she really could accept loving Minghao on a deadline. She’d try it anyway— she trusts Minghao, even with breaking her heart.

But here is the impossible result— Mingyu’s heart versus Minghao’s head— an unstoppable force and an immovable object.

“Mingyu,” Minghao says, reaching out like she wants to bring Mingyu in closer before dropping her hand once again, knotting her fingers in the blanket. “I’m sorry.”

It’s obvious how much she means it but that only makes it feel worse. Mingyu could’ve said nothing and left everything the way it was.

There’s no going back to it now, not really. Mingyu drags herself out of bed with her best approximation of a smile.

“I’m gonna shower,” she says, a little tremor in her voice. “Do you want me to make breakfast?”

“Sure,” Minghao says, still distant.

**{* * *}**

All in all, things are going well for Minghao. She's getting ready to graduate with grades that won't make her grandparents faint, she hasn't had to cope with any major meltdown so far this year.

She has an interview for a job today. A job she should be excited about even though it's far from a dream. Still, she walks into the tall, glass building with dread settling in her stomach like a pit viper. She crosses the lobby with a tight bracket of a smile, trying to look like she belongs while also not making eye contact with anyone else. She stands in the elevator and tries not to think about Mingyu wishing her good luck. 

It's been twenty-two strange days in their apartment since Mingyu got drunk and confessed her feelings to Minghao. Twenty-two days since Minghao told her no. 

As much as they've tried to operate as if everything is the same between them, their one-room apartment and one queen bed have gotten even smaller. It's impossible to avoid the tension and even worse trying to pretend she can't sense it. But even so, the thought of leaving in a few weeks when their lease expires is hardly a relief either. 

Minghao presses the button and lets the glass cage of the elevator carry her up. As much as she tells herself there's no escaping the future it seems there's no escape from her feelings for Mingyu either. The closer she gets to one, the further away she is from the other.

She steps out of the elevator when the steel doors roll open and only hesitates for a moment looking at the polite, closed-mouth smile of the receptionist sitting behind the desk facing the elevator.

She gives her name and settles into her seat, tapping her fingers on her legs and resisting the compulsive urge to pull her phone out and text Mingyu or Seokmin for a little boost to her confidence. It seems cruel, anyway, to ask Mingyu to wish her luck.

Getting the job would mean moving hours away— leaving behind the quiet life she’s built with Mingyu over the last year and all the confused fluttering of her heart when she still wakes up every morning to Mingyu’s peacefully sleeping face.

Minghao is still thinking about it— about Mingyu watching her get ready in the morning with her hair standing up in every direction like a fuzzy halo and a cup of coffee smothered between her palms for warmth, mumbling tiredly at her— when she’s summoned into an office by a tall, broad man who’s shirt is at least two sizes too big for him and who squeezes her hand too tight when they shake.

 

After it’s all over, Minghao resigns herself to walking back by herself. To going _home_ by herself. There’s a sprinkle of warm rain that lands on her shoulders and sticks the light cotton of her shirt to her skin and Minghao catches herself wishing she’d taken her umbrella when Mingyu had offered it.

She feels silly without it, and by the time she does get back to the apartment, up the stairs and past the front door that always swells up and sticks in the frame when it rains, her shirt is transparent at the shoulders and the careful curls of her hair have fallen into disarray.

So it’s a surprise when she walks in to the warm smells of orange and ginger and Mingyu leaning over the counter, humming to herself with no apparent awareness of Minghao having walked in.

Minghao is careful and quiet in shutting the door. She doesn’t want to startle Mingyu and risk her cutting off a finger.

“Hey,” she says, trying to be just loud enough to be heard over the peppy music that Mingyu has playing. Mingyu does startle, but only slightly. She sets down the knife in her hand and wheels around, dusting her hands carelessly off on her jeans.

“Hi!” Mingyu says, her whole face lighting up in a smile. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“It didn’t take very long,” Minghao says. Mingyu hovers in place, rocking back and forth on her feet like she wants to cross the room and sweep Minghao up in her arms but can’t quite gather enough momentum to get there.

Maybe it’s true for both of them. Minghao feels stuck in place as well.

“Did it go well?” Mingyu says, still a little breathless in her own excitement. “Did they offer you the job?”

“No,” Minghao says, answering with a shrug and a laugh. “It went pretty okay, I think. The guy said he’d call me.”

“That’s great,” Mingyu says, her eyes crinkled at the corners.

Minghao never thought it would make her chest ache to see Mingyu look so happy. It does anyway— they’re standing a dozen feet apart but the air still feels fragile and tense. The whole illusion is liable to shatter at any moment.

“What’re you making?” Minghao says because she needs another thought in her head to distract her from the rest.

“Ah.” Mingyu’s smile curls up higher on one side and she rubs the back of her neck with a laugh. “This is embarrassing.”

Minghao raises a curious eyebrow and steps closer, edging her way into the kitchen. “Did you screw up?”

“No,” Mingyu says, sticking her lip out in a pout. “I, um, called your mom earlier?”

“You called my mom?” Minghao repeats it as a question, chuckling a little. “Why?”

“I wanted to ask her what kinda sweet stuff you like,” Mingyu says. It’s not just Minghao’s imagination telling her that Mingyu’s face is pink. “It’s silly. I wanted to make something nice for you.”

That makes Minghao pause, her hand resting on one of the plastic countertops. She’s almost scared to probe any deeper, to ask if Mingyu thought she needed congratulations or condolences.

“They want me to move,” Minghao says. She doesn’t want to know what Mingyu is baking anymore, even though the scent of it is making her mouth water. “For the job. If I get it.”

Mingyu’s face changes— her smile drops and her eyebrows start to creep together before she manages to smooth her face out into something less clear. It doesn’t matter. Minghao has been trying so hard to handle Mingyu’s heart with care for weeks and she still manages to crush it between her fingers without trying.

“They do?” Mingyu asks, small. Her previous cheer melts away, her shoulders creeping slightly inward. “How, um, how far?”

“Far,” Minghao says, shaking her head. There were a few possible locations but none of them close or easy. “At least a couple of hours but they were talking about international consulting so I’d be going to China like six times a year too…”

Mingyu opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it again. Minghao wants to comfort her, somehow. She’s not sure if her comfort would be appreciated though, or if she’s only making things worse by trying so hard to hold onto Mingyu and the way things are now.

She lacks the grace for this. She can’t be Mingyu’s best friend and the girl she loves and the girl who rejected her all at once. She doesn’t want to be all of those things, either.

“I might not take it,” Minghao says, the words coming out in a rush. “I mean, I don’t really wanna move into a different place and then never even see it. I’d be basically living out of a suitcase.”

Minghao doesn’t mean to say it as a lie, but the words don’t really feel true until they leave her mouth. There is, of course, no reason she _has_ to say yes to the first offer that comes along, is there?

“You don’t have to do that,” Mingyu says, looking at the old boards of the floor before looking back at Minghao. “I know things are gonna be… different. You don’t have to.”

“Mingyu,” she says softly, reaching out in her direction. She’s not sure what to follow the name with.

What use is this heart if it only hangs around Minghao’s neck like a stone?

Mingyu smiles but it’s shaking at the corners. They’ve both been so careful to avoid talking about the future— about graduation, or jobs, or the lease on their apartment. It’s too close to the raw wound open between them.

But when Minghao tries to picture her future like this— in a new city, in a different apartment, all her clothes packed in bags and rarely leaving— it seems unbearably lonely.

Mingyu takes a single, wary step closer and Minghao’s throat closes tight over her next words. She could kiss Mingyu now, if she stopped giving herself reasons not to.

“What if—” Minghao starts, pausing to reach out and loop her fingers around Mingyu’s wrist, pulling her in closer. Mingyu goes along easily, stopping when her chest is almost pressed against Minghao’s, looking down at her with a curious hope that makes Minghao’s heart shift a gear higher. “What if I don’t wanna go anywhere else?”

Mingyu’s lips are slightly parted but she seems lost for what to say. Minghao still has a grip on her wrist, hoping Mingyu won’t try to pull free or walk away. Mingyu doesn’t— instead, she takes her other hand and rests just the tips of her fingers on Minghao’s cheek. The touch is so light it’s nearly not there at all and Minghao wants to turn her face into the warmth of Mingyu’s hand but she’s still looking up at Mingyu, straight to center, hoping for an answer.

“You said you like it here,” Mingyu says, looking for confirmation. Minghao nods, the pads of her fingers pressed into the thudding pulse point of Mingyu’s wrist, feeling her heartbeat speed up.

“I do,” Minghao says. She can feel the two of them drawing in closer without thinking about it.

“You didn’t…” Mingyu starts then trails off. Her eyes leap to the side and Minghao squeezes gently around her wrist, trying to encourage the thought out of her. Mingyu’s throat bobs in a rough swallow. “You didn’t say you didn’t love me too, did you?”

Slowly, Minghao shakes her head. Mingyu’s lips peel back in a wide smile, showing the tips of her canines. She leans forward and Minghao is expecting a kiss but Mingyu just taps their foreheads together, trapping Minghao’s gaze with hers.

“Can you say it?” She asks, hushed and excited.

“Say what?” Minghao says, even though she knows. Even though her arms are wrapping around Mingyu’s back to hold her in a proper embrace. Mingyu’s face flushes but she’s not deterred.

“That you wanna stay,” Mingyu says, the warmth of her breath sliding over Minghao’s cheek. “That you love me.”

“I love you,” Minghao says, low and soft, letting the words hover in the captive space they’re both occupying. “I wanna stay here with you.”

Mingyu laughs in delight, smacking a wet kiss against the center of Minghao’s forehead and drawing her into a hug that nearly squeezes the life out of Minghao. She doesn’t complain— even when Mingyu keeps dropping kisses all over her face like an over-enthusiastic puppy. She clings onto Mingyu in return, fingers curled in the soft fabric of her shirt, and laughs with her.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu wakes up with Minghao lined up against her back, the soft skin of her lips pressed to the bare skin of Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu squeezes her eyes tighter to try and block out the intruding sunlight. Behind her, Minghao laughs softly, dragging the cool tips of her fingers under the loose hem of Mingyu’s shirt.

“I know you’re awake,” Minghao says, her voice still sleep-rough, lips dragging over Mingyu’s shoulder.

“No, I’m not,” Mingyu says, leaning her body back into Minghao’s. She stretches her legs out a little, letting Minghao stroke her stomach and trying to repress the full body shiver that has little to do with the cold. She _is_ still sleepy— given the chance, she could easily sink back to sleep for a while.

Minghao chuckles, her mouth moving to nip at the shell of Mingyu’s ear. “You’re not?”

This time, Mingyu does shiver. She’s still getting used to Minghao’s ability to play her like a fiddle. Minghao’s hand inches higher, her fingers covering the delineation of Mingyu’s ribs now, finding where her skin is sensitive and ticklish.

“No,” Mingyu says, her eyes peeking open. “I don’t wanna be.”

Minghao’s lips follow the shell of her ear, giving the lobe a gentle tug before her teeth drag over the delicate skin shielding her pulse. Mingyu hums out a strained sound, tilting her head up, giving herself over to Minghao.

She turns just enough to look back at Minghao, her vision still slightly blurry and Minghao lifts her head to smile in return, her hair fuzzy and dark around her face. “Good morning, darling.”

“Morning,” Mingyu mumbles, stretching back for a kiss, hoping Minghao doesn’t notice the way her face flushes pink. In spite of her morning breath, Minghao smiles into the kiss, her fingers sliding over the side of Mingyu’s jaw.

Her other hand, still inside Mingyu’s shirt, slides up to let her fingers follow the curve of Minghao’s breast. Mingyu tries to press back more, laying half on top of Minghao now, opening her mouth to let Minghao’s tongue lick over hers.

When it comes to sex, Minghao is infuriatingly, intoxicatingly sure of herself and nothing seems to make her happier than driving Mingyu completely insane that way. She wiggles her way out from under Mingyu only to throw a leg over her hips and sit on top of her, looking down at Mingyu with her head tilted to the side and a grin on her face.

“You’re lively this morning,” Mingyu grumbles, still arching her back up when Minghao’s hands slide under her shirt again, pulling it up to reveal her stomach. Minghao shrugs, leaning over to drag kisses over Mingyu’s freshly exposed skin.

“Would you rather I let you sleep in?” Minghao says, her mouth tickling Mingyu’s ribs.

“No,” Mingyu says, a little grudgingly, biting down on her lip. Minghao has their blanket draped over her shoulders still and it covers them both when she moves from mouthing at Mingyu’s ribs to the flat bone between her breasts.

Mingyu’s heart feels too big for the constraint of her ribs and she’s sure Minghao must be able to hear just how hard it’s pounding. She pecks kisses over Mingyu’s skin, skirting just around her pebbling nipples, teeth dragging over her shoulder again. Her weight on top of Mingyu keeps her from squirming the way she wants to.

Minghao doesn’t like to rush her way through sex like the people Mingyu is used to. She’s happy to toy with Mingyu until she comes apart at every seam— past the point of even being able to beg or demand. Minghao knows exactly where she wants to be touched and she avoids it until Mingyu can barely grasp for coherence.

Her teeth drag over Mingyu’s collarbone, finding a mark leftover from a few nights ago and closing her mouth around it again, teasing the faded blue bruise bright and angry again. Mingyu’s shoulders peel away from the sheets, nails dragging over Minghao’s sides.

She’s not on the edge of falling asleep anymore, though there isn’t any urgency clawing at her stomach either. She feels slightly lazy, contented with the warmth of Minghao’s body pressing into her, the weight of it that’s becoming familiar. Minghao kisses her neck, the edge of her jaw, the corner of her mouth before Mingyu turns her face to the side to catch her mouth again. She curls her fingers around the back of Minghao’s neck, biting at her lower lip.

Minghao hisses, her hips giving half a roll forward against Mingyu’s. There’s an unfair grace to it and Mingyu grabs at one of Minghao’s hips and encourages her to do it again, fingers digging into her skin. Minghao hums against Mingyu’s lips, rutting her hips forward again. Mingyu’s hand drags up her back, feeling the bumps of Minghao’s spine, mapping out the skin she can’t see.

There’s nowhere for them to go— nothing to be late to. Aside from the buzz of morning traffic outside the window, the outside world hardly exists.

Minghao ducks forward when Mingyu pulls the shirt off of her back and over her head, letting Mingyu toss it in the vague direction of their other laundry to be picked up later. Minghao smiles, bending forward to press her mouth to Mingyu’s again, knees digging against Mingyu’s hips to hold herself up on the soft surface of the mattress.

Mingyu’s nails scrape along her hips, the blunt tips of them making Minghao shiver slightly. The blanket has fallen to the side already, leaving Minghao bare and pale in the spring light and Mingyu thinks that she’ll maybe never get enough of the sight of Minghao without her clothes on. Her fingers catch on the lace waistband of Minghao’s underwear before sliding down the outside of her thighs, feeling the flex of Minghao’s muscles when she rolls her hips forward again, teasing now. Mingyu drops her head back against the bed and makes a frustrated sound.

Rather than encouraging Minghao to take pity on her, it only means that Minghao’s mouth follows the stretched line of her neck again, teeth working over the tendons of her throat. Mingyu’s hand clenches around Minghao’s thigh, the other knotted up in the sheets.

“Minghao, c’mon,” she says, demanding and soft. She can feel the way Minghao grins against the side of her neck.

“Do you need something from me?” Minghao says, laughter threaded through her words. She drags a hand down Mingyu’s chest, stopping to squeeze her breasts through her unsettled shirt, licking at the juncture of Mingyu’s neck and shoulder.

“Yes,” Mingyu says, trying her best to sound like she’s _not_ pouting but failing still.

“Want me to stop?” Minghao says, smug against the sensitive skin of Mingyu’s neck.

“Stop teasing me,” Mingyu says in return, shaking her head and curling an arm around Minghao’s waist to try and stop her from pulling away. Minghao hums, pleased, and sits up to press another long, slow kiss to Mingyu’s mouth.

Only while Mingyu’s distracted she does move— so she’s no longer sitting on top of Mingyu but kneeling between her legs, pressing Mingyu’s thighs apart to make space. Mingyu squirms slightly, dragging her shirt back down her stomach and staring up at Minghao with hazy eyes.

She feels exposed— not necessarily in a bad way. Minghao sits up, her hands curving just under Mingyu’s knees, pressing a kiss to her kneecap and following the tanned skin of her leg up her thigh. Her mouth makes Mingyu twitch, vulnerable and wanting at the same time, trying to swallow down the sound she wants to make when nips at the inside of her thighs. The heat of Minghao’s mouth on her thigh, the crease of her hip, over the center of her panties where they’re embarrassingly damp, makes Mingyu melt back into the sheets, dragging her eyes up to stare at the ceiling with a little whimper of sound.

“Too much?” Minghao asks, leaning her cheek against Mingyu’s thigh.

Mingyu lifts her head only enough to give it a quick shake. Minghao _can_ be overwhelming but in a good way. Getting fucked by her isn’t like anything else that Mingyu is used to.

“I’m good,” she mumbles when Minghao doesn’t immediately return to the task at hand. She peels her eyes off the white boards of the ceiling to look down at her, risking biting a hole through her lip. There’s a smile on Minghao’s face, dragging her hand down from Mingyu’s knee to press two fingers against her cunt, rubbing them up and down to make it easy for both of them to tell just how into this Mingyu is. Her face burns, even as she pushes down into Minghao’s hand with a little groan.

“You get so worked up, honey,” Minghao says teasing— praising— Mingyu isn’t sure which and doesn’t really care. Her words coil up hot and potent in Mingyu’s stomach either way. “I thought you were still sleepy.”

Mingyu shakes her head, not trusting herself to really answer while Minghao’s fingers are curling past her labia, rubbing the rough fabric of her clothes against her clit and making her legs quiver slightly. It doesn’t matter— her lack of a verbal response is offset by the physical and it makes Minghao grin anyway.

All of Mingyu’s conscious and subconscious imaginings of Minghao in bed never truly accounted for this… the way Minghao enjoys her reactions; feeds off of them. Nor did it include the way she manages to make Mingyu feel like she has an insatiable need for love in all its forms— all the ways Minghao gives it to her. She’s exactly as greedy as Minghao is generous.

The same is true here when Minghao’s fingers hook in the elastic of her underwear and peel the clothing away from her skin, down her thighs far enough for Mingyu to slip one leg free. She pushes Mingyu’s thighs apart, ducking her head to press kisses to her pelvis, the inside of her thighs, her mouth damp and eager. Mingyu squirms before Minghao’s mouth even finds her cunt, her tongue slipping between Mingyu’s labia and tasting the sensitive skin. Mingyu tugs at the sheets, all the air leaving her lungs in a heavy gasp.

It takes several dizzy seconds before she manages to suck in another breath, making a small, shuddering sound when the tip of Minghao’s tongue slides over her clit, making her thighs twitch and squeeze together. Minghao hums, the sound vibrating Mingyu’s skin, her nails digging into the muscles of Mingyu’s thighs. Her jaw stretches open, dragging her tongue over Mingyu’s skin in broad, unhurried strokes. Mingyu’s heels drag across the bed, her hips canting up toward Minghao’s mouth once again.

Minghao is too good at drawing these things out— even with her mouth between Mingyu’s legs she still spends more of her time teasing— circling the sensitive skin around her clit without touching it directly, dragging the tip of her tongue in Mingyu’s hole but not actually pushing it in all the way. She makes Mingyu want to burst free of her skin, grabbing vainly at the back of her head only to have Minghao gently remove her hand and tangle their fingers together instead.

“Minghao,” she says, barely forcing the name out, her chin pointed up at the ceiling. Minghao lifts her head enough to rest her cheek on Mingyu’s thigh, kissing her leg with a little grin.

“Yeah?” She says, nipping Mingyu’s thigh when all she does at first is whine in response.

Mingyu looks down at her, eyes lidded, glaring the best she can manage. “You’re the worst.”

All her complaining does is make Minghao grin a little wider, closing her teeth around Mingyu’s thigh and sucking a bright red mark into her skin— the kind that will probably last for the next several days, made worse by Minghao’s habit of prodding at the marks she leaves. Mingyu groans, her voice dragging rough, nudging her knee against Minghao’s ribs.

“I’m gonna die,” Mingyu says, scraping her nails over the sheets. “You’re killing me.”

Minghao makes a pleased sound in the back of her throat, licking over the imprint of her teeth. “Tell me what you want, darling,” she says, her pupils swollen and dark when she looks up at Mingyu.

“I want you to make me come,” Mingyu says, unashamed of how demanding she sounds. Minghao laughs, muffling the sound against her skin before pressing Mingyu’s thighs apart with her palms again. This time she uses her thumbs to open Mingyu up further.

When Minghao’s mouth attaches to her clit Mingyu jerks, narrowly avoiding hitting her head. Minghao doesn’t fully abandon her previous languid pace but the pressure of her tongue is no longer teasing. She presses a finger slowly inside, giving Mingyu’s muscles something to clamp desperately around.

She brings Mingyu over the edge like that— still slow and sweet— her finger curled to seek out where Mingyu is most sensitive, tongue curved over her clit. She stays like that until Mingyu is trembling, the force of her orgasm making her melt against the sheets. Minghao continues until Mingyu can barely feel the twitching muscles in her legs.

It’s all Mingyu can do to whine at her pathetically when she does finally pull away, wrapping a hand around Minghao’s wrist in a weak effort to pull her closer.

Minghao obliges her anyway, fingers tickling up her ribs, pressing a slightly sticky kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I’m going back to sleep,” Mingyu says, no real heat behind her words. She definitely could— any energy she had upon waking up is gone at this point. Not that Minghao seems to care, judging by the way she laughs, kissing along the line of Mingyu’s jaw.

“We need groceries,” Minghao says, stroking her palm up and down Mingyu’s ribs.

Mingyu grunts, shaking her head and turning to hide her face against the arch of Minghao’s collarbone. In spite of her words, her hand trails down Minghao’s bare back, feeling the bumps of her spine.

“You can get those,” she says, her mouth moving over Minghao’s skin. “You don’t need me.”

“Sure I do,” Minghao says, huffing out a heavy breath when Mingyu’s fingers slip past the elastic edge of her underwear. “You complain I buy the wrong stuff.”

“You do,” Mingyu says, her smile hidden against Minghao’s neck. Minghao opens her mouth to answer only for her words to get lost in a moan, pressing her hips forward when Mingyu’s fingers find where she’s warm and slick between her legs. Mingyu curls her fingers past Minghao’s labia, mouthing along her throat.

Minghao’s nails dig into Mingyu’s shoulders through her shirt, shuddering breaths blowing over the shell of Mingyu’s ear. Mingyu’s free arm winds around her side, keeping Minghao close to her and rolling Minghao’s clit in slow circles.

“Ah, like that,” Minghao says, low and encouraging. She has a habit of talking Mingyu through sex— guiding and praising at the same time. It creates an endless feedback loop; the more Minghao tells her what to do the more eager Mingyu is to follow along and try to please her.

She pulls her face away from Minghao’s neck only to close her mouth over one of Minghao’s nipples instead, trapping the sensitive bud of flesh between her lips and tracing it with the stiff tip of her tongue. Minghao’s grip on her shoulders goes tighter, until Mingyu can feel the blunt curves of her nails even though her shirt.

She fucks Minghao open around one finger, then two, the slick sound of it making her face burn. Mingyu nips at her skin, kissing the flat of her collarbone, letting Minghao roll her hips back and forth at the pace she wants.

Sometimes— not always— Minghao mumbles confused streams of Mandarin before she comes, her eyes fluttering open and shut. Mingyu’s understanding is too minimal to guess what she might be saying but she wishes she could understand. She wants to know exactly what Minghao is saying when she slips over the edge of coherence and her muscles clench down on Mingyu’s fingers. Her whole body shivers when she comes, panting out broken thoughts against the top of Mingyu’s head and hanging on like she’ll fall apart otherwise.

Minghao keeps clinging to her, even after Mingyu pulls her hand away and presses a series of soft kisses to her cheeks and mouth. Minghao kisses her back, still struggling to catch her breath, a smile on her face.

“Do you still wanna get up?” Mingyu asks, settling in more comfortably with Minghao against her chest, a hand spread wide over her bare back.

For a moment, Minghao is quiet.

“No,” she says finally, her voice fuzzy. “Set another alarm.”

“What about groceries?” Mingyu says, fishing her phone from the edge of the bed to give them some time to doze off.

“Later,” Minghao says, nuzzling her face into Mingyu’s shoulder.

“Mmm,” Mingyu hums, shutting her eyes. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Minghao says, already drifting off back to sleep. But Mingyu can feel the way she smiles— the way her cheeks lift and in the sound of her voice.

As long as that’s the case, Mingyu is happy to let the rest of the world wait.


End file.
